


And The Thunder Rolled

by MadameCissy



Category: Major Crimes (TV), The Closer
Genre: Character Death, F/F, Family, Family Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 07:58:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 23,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4911619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadameCissy/pseuds/MadameCissy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brenda pushed herself up far enough to pick up the cup and she sniffed at it before taking a small sip. Brenda wasn't much of a tea drinker, she preferred coffee, but there was something about the chamomile tea that she found comforting. She took a few more sips from the hot drink and felt it warm her body from the inside out. She then looked at Sharon who was still sitting beside her on the bed. "Thank you," she said. "I... I didn't know where else to go."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Mary Fic Fest Prompt 44: "Brenda shows up on Sharon's doorstep in the middle of the night"

She stood in the middle of her bedroom, eyes focused on nothing in particular. The only light came from the lamp on the bedside table, its glow soft and warming. She'd walked into this room three hours ago after what had felt like the longest three days of her life, headed directly for the shower, stripped off and had discarded her clothes in a messy pile on the floor. They were still there. She'd stood under the hot spray until her skin was red and the water had gone cold. But no amount of water could erase the dirt she still felt clinging to her skin and the tormented echo of a mother's scream that still rang in her ears.

Wednesday had started with an early morning call about a critical missing. Two young children were reported missing from their beds by their mother. She'd gone in to their rooms to wake them for breakfast and had found their beds empty and the bedroom window open. At that point, whoever took the children already had a more than ten hour head start and Sharon knew, deep down, that the chances of everything coming to a good end were small.

Wednesday faded into Thursday in a blur of caffeine, lack of sleep, lack of clues and evidence and an abundance of frustration. No ransom calls were made, no sightings of the children reported. The children's father, a surgeon, had divorced their mother the previous year and although they were still arguing over custody arrangements, he wasn't a suspect. A co-worker confirmed his alibi about having been at a work all night and security footage from the hospital backed up his story.

Friday came and Sharon had stared into the two shallow graves underneath an old oak tree in the local park. They lay side by side, brother and sister, aged four and six, with dirt on their perfect little faces and their eyes still open, seeing nothing. She'd looked down at them and felt the weight of the world on her shoulder, the pressure of endlessly asking herself why, whether it would ever end. Stepping in to the mother's living room and being the person to tell her that her children were dead had made her feel like a monster. She was the one to snatch away all remaining hope, to destroy whatever was left. She could still hear the anguish scream, the desperate pleas, ringing in her ears.

She'd tried to eat something but the food had tasted bland. Not even her favourite wine could change the taste; the alcohol had simply burnt bitterly down her throat. The TV had been too noisy and every local news channel opened with the case she wanted to leave behind. She'd sat in silence for a little while, with a book in her lap, but had only read a couple of pages. She'd contemplated calling Rusty but she didn't want to worry him, didn't want him thinking that he should have been here to look after her, because Sharon knew how much he deserved a chance to be his own person, a chance to really live, maybe for the first time in his life.

She heaved a sigh. Maybe it was just time. Time to walk away while she still had some belief left in this world, while she still believed there was something good out there, while she still believed that children possessed some innocence and didn't have it stolen from them by their father's new girlfriend who so desperately wanted to have her own child with him, that she murdered the ones he already had. Maybe it was time to walk away. Some things just ran their natural cause. They just ended.

Sharon removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes. Her body ached, bore the clear signs of lack of sleep and one too many nightmares. She felt the dull pain in her joints. She'd seen the dark rings around her eyes when she looked at herself in the mirror, had noticed the pale colour and dryness of her skin. Her bed hadn't been slept in for two days and she quietly crossed the room, left her glasses on the bedside table and slowly sank down on to the mattress.

She was about to switch off the light when she heard the knock on the door. First just the one knock, then a couple more and then what could only be described as a hard, heavy pounding.

Sharon slipped out of bed and walked through the corridor to the front door. She rose to the tip of her toes to check the spy hole and then quickly unlocked the door and removed the chain. Outside, her face partly lit up by the harsh light from her condo's outside light, stood Brenda Leigh Johnson. She was huddled deep into her cardigan, her mop of unruly curls bound back into a messy ponytail.

She hadn't seen Brenda for a couple of days because of the case, but they'd spoken on the phone and Brenda had sent her a couple of text messages, reminding her to eat. When she came home tonight she'd found a slice of cake in the fridge with a post-it note, confirming that Brenda had left it there for her. Brenda understood like no one else was what it was like, to be faced with darkness for days on end, and for a moment Sharon wondered if that was why Brenda was here but then she noticed the red, puffy eyes and then the tears that had not quite dried on Brenda's cheeks. She reached out a hand to her friend, placing it gently on Brenda's forearm, and pulled her closer.

"Brenda?" She whispered. "What are you doing here? It's almost midnight!"

Brenda looked up, eyes wide and full of tears. Sharon felt herself break inside all over again. She looked so fragile. Brenda's face was gaunt and she looked pale, like she hadn't seen sunlight for days. The familiar looking cardigan, the one Brenda wrapped herself up in when she felt stressed, hung around her slender frame and she wore grey sweatpants and a white tank top. Sharon suspected she had literally just rolled out of bed. Whatever it was that had brought Brenda to her doorstep, it wasn't anything good.

"Daddy... Daddy had a heart... attack." Brenda managed to get the words out in between sobs. "I... I don't know..."

"Oh, Brenda, honey, I'm so sorry."

Sharon didn't wait for Brenda to finish her sentence. Her arms slipped around the blonde's neck and she pulled her close. Brenda's body fell against Sharon's. She made no attempt to hug Sharon back, just seemed to seek shelter in the older woman's arms. Sharon pulled Brenda closer and somehow managed to push the door shut with her foot. The darkness of the hallway swallowed them up.

"Jimmy... My brother... He called and said... I tried to get a redeye but it's full and I..." Brenda's words came out in a rapid succession now, interrupted by sobs and shaky breaths and some got lost. Her arms slowly snaked around Sharon's neck, her head resting against her shoulder. Sharon felt Brenda's tears against her own skin and she held her a little bit tighter. As tired as she was, as dark as what she had faced over the last three days had been, it felt good to hold another person, even if it was under these circumstances.

"It's bad, Sharon. He had heart attacks before but this… They don't think he'll make it."

Sharon knew how close Brenda was to her father, even if she made it sound like he did nothing but annoy her. She'd seen up close the devastation after Brenda's mother Willie Rae passed away several years ago. Something had changed in Brenda that day, like something had died with her mother, because when she came back to Los Angeles after the funeral, Sharon saw a different woman.

Clay Johnson had struggled to pick his life back up after losing his wife. He seemed to have lost his sense of direction, of purpose, or so Brenda said. He and Willie Rae had been together for so long that he seemed to have forgotten what it was like to be alone. But as the years went on, he found some of that old joy again. He'd joined a bowling team, took part in competitions and greatly enjoyed it. Brenda visited him two or three times a year. Clay no longer came to Los Angeles. The RV had been sold because he couldn't drive the long distances anymore, and he no longer had his best friend sitting beside him, and the cross country flying was just too tiring. Brenda had asked Sharon to go with her the last time she saw her father but Sharon had been caught up in work.

"What am I gonna do?" Brenda stammered. She let go off Sharon and frantically began running her hands along her cardigan, brushing off invisible pieces of fluff. "I don't know what I'm gonna do. I can't lose Daddy. I... What if I don't get there in time?"

Brenda started pacing the hall, nervously biting at her fingernails. It was a bad habit and Sharon had only ever seen Brenda do it when she was really stressed. She watched the younger woman for a few moments, suddenly taken back to the night Brenda had first arrived on her doorstep several years ago. It was what had marked the change in their lives.

It had been a couple of weeks after she retired from the LAPD and Sharon had taken over Major Crimes. It had been rough. The team had resented her, didn't trust her. Sharon didn't trust herself either. She never did quite understand why Brenda had asked her to take over because she knew she would never be able to fill the immense emptiness Brenda had left behind.

Two weeks in and Brenda knocked on her door one Friday night, a bottle of red wine in her hand. She said she wanted to thank Sharon for everything she'd done and she wanted to check on Rusty, who at that stage had still been angry at Sharon and the rest of the world, but warmed to Brenda immediately. After that night, Brenda came to visit more often and what had once been a strained working relationship had blossomed into an intense friendship. Yes, intense was probably the best word to describe a life that included Brenda Leigh Johnson.

Sharon took a step forward, invading Brenda's personal space, and took her hands. "Brenda," she said calmly. Brenda didn't respond, just stared at a spot on the wall. "Brenda," Sharon tried again and this time, Brenda looked up. "Brenda, honey, listen to me. It's going to be OK, I promise. But I need you to listen to me, OK?"

Brenda nodded and Sharon smiled. "Good." Her voice was still soft. Her thumb caressed the back of Brenda's hand. She saw Brenda's eyes drop down and stopped.

"Sharon..."

"Ssssh," Sharon soothed. "Leave everything to me. Go to the bedroom. I'll make us some tea and I promise, it's all going to be ok."

She slowly let go off Brenda's hands and Brenda hesitated for a moment before making her way down the hall towards Sharon's bedroom. Sharon watched her until she saw Brenda open the door and then turned to go to the kitchen.

She boiled the water, fetched two cups down from the cupboard and added a chamomile tea bag to each of them, then poured the hot water on top. The fragrant herbal scent filled her nose. While she waited for the tea to brew she opened her laptop. It still sat on the counter where she had abandoned it three days ago. She opened a new page, typed in her request and hit search. Seconds later a list of options appeared and Sharon reached for her phone.

The tea had finished brewing and she carried the two cups to her bedroom, phone tucked in her pocket and laptop under her arm. The door was still open and one of the bedside lamps was on. Brenda lay on her side, on top of the comforter, her back turned towards the door. She'd kicked off her sneakers and her socks but still wore her cardigan.

Sharon dropped the laptop into the bed, then walked round it and placed the cup with steaming hot tea on the bedside table. She looked at Brenda to find silent tears trickling down her face and she sat down beside her on whatever little room there was left. She was pressed up against Brenda's legs and the blonde's knees poked into her lower back.

"Oh, Brenda..."

"I can't lose him, Sharon. I won't have anyone left. First Mama, now Daddy."

Sharon couldn't promise Brenda she wouldn't lose her father. No one could. She wished she could promise her that Clay would pull through but Sharon knew that Brenda was very well aware of her father's age and his medical condition. The fact that he'd had several heart attacks as well as thyroid cancer he had been diagnosed with a few years back and the operation that followed had knocked him about a bit and he had never quite been the same again. Losing his wife had only added to that. And time was kind to no one, it would eventually run out for everyone. But Sharon wished she could tell Brenda this wasn't her father's time but she knew it wouldn't be true if she said it.

"Drink your tea," Sharon whispered and reached to brush a curl out of Brenda's eyes. Brenda's cheek was warm. Sharon lingered there for a moment, wiped away the stray tears. Brenda didn't move. "Drink your tea and try to sleep."

"Sharon..."

"Tea, Brenda. Leave everything else to me."

Brenda didn't reply and Sharon thought it had to be the first time that Brenda Leigh Johnson didn't talk back to her when told to do something. Even though they were friends and no longer worked together, Brenda still had a habit of challenging Sharon from time to time. Usually it was in a joking manner, reminding the both of them just how much time had changed, but sometimes Sharon still caught a glimpse of the stubborn, self-centred Deputy Chief. Sharon would never admit it, especially not to Brenda, but she enjoyed it when Brenda challenged her. It kept her sharp.

Brenda pushed herself up far enough to pick up the cup and she sniffed at it before taking a small sip. Brenda wasn't much of a tea drinker, she preferred coffee, but there was something about the chamomile tea that she found comforting. She took a few more sips from the hot drink and felt it warm her body from the inside out. She then looked at Sharon who was still sitting beside her on the bed. "Thank you," she said. "I... I didn't know where else to go."

"It's ok, Brenda," Sharon replied. "Really."

It wasn't the first time Brenda had turned up at her doorstep in the middle of the night. She and Fritz had divorced a year earlier. It hadn't exactly been a friendly affair, not after Brenda found out that Fritz had been dating another woman behind her back for over a year. It was as if all the bottled up frustrations had just come pouring out and Brenda had filed the papers the next day. She and Fritz no longer spoke. He'd moved back to Washington a few months ago, with his new girlfriend, and as far as Sharon knew, he was at a desk somewhere in Quantico. His persisting heart problems meant that Fritz could no longer stay at SOB, something that wasn't helped by the cold reception he got from everyone at Major Crimes since they were all still fiercely loyal to Brenda and it seemed that once his marriage broke down, he just couldn't stay in Los Angeles anymore.

Since the divorce Brenda had become a different person. Sharon had never realised just how much being married to Fritz had held Brenda back but the person she saw emerge from the burning ashes was a different woman than the one she had known for so long. Their friendship intensified, with Brenda spending several nights a week at Sharon's condo and Sharon spending weekends at Brenda's cosy bungalow. Sharon even had a spare key to Brenda's house and she had recently given Brenda one to the condo. They would watch movies, which usually was preceded with minor bickering about what they would watch as Brenda preferred trashy chick flicks and Sharon preferred movies like Schindler's List. Other days they went shopping, would cook dinner - Brenda had taught Sharon how to cook an amazing Southern fried chicken and in return Sharon had let Brenda in on her family's recipe for lamb stew- and sometimes they just sat at opposite ends of the dining table working, a bottle of wine standing between them.

Sharon snapped out of her thoughts and looked back at Brenda. She found the younger woman had given in to her exhaustion and was asleep, still lying on her side and with a hand tucked underneath the pillow. Brenda's features had relaxed and Sharon pushed herself up from her position on the bed. The cup with chamomile tea was half empty.

Sharon padded into her ensuite and picked up her toothbrush and toothpaste. After she'd brushed her teeth she walked back into the bedroom, picked a pair of pyjamas from the drawer and stripped off. She pulled the dark blue buttoned silk shirt over her head, then put on the matching pants and climbed into the bed. Brenda was still on top of the comforter so actually getting in the bed wasn't easy but Sharon managed to cover her feet.

She opened up the laptop and started clicking on various pages, whilst checking other information on her phone. The dim silvery glow from the two screens spread across the room and Sharon eventually found what she was looking for, completed the transaction and rested back against the pillows on the bed. Beside her Brenda stirred but didn't wake. Sharon began scrolling through the contacts in her phone and dialled a familiar number.

"Lieutenant?" She spoke quietly so as not to wake Brenda. "Yes, I'm aware it's late. I'm sorry but I just wanted to tell you that I won't be available for the next week or so. There has been..." She looked at Brenda's sleeping form, a warm fondness welling up in her chest. "...a family emergency." She waited for the confirming answer on the other side of the line. "I know I can trust you to keep things running smoothly." She smiled to herself. "Thank you."

She ended the call and focused back on her computer. Her eyes were burning, she was so tired, yet she continued to look at the screen.

When she finally closed her laptop, it was almost two o'clock in the morning. Brenda was still asleep, curled up into a ball. She'd rolled over and was facing Sharon, her knees pressing against Sharon's legs and her hand inches from Sharon's arm. Sharon carefully put the laptop down on the floor, plugged her phone into the charger she kept on her nightstand and slipped off the bed to pull back the comforter.

The movement disturbed Brenda and she opened her eyes. "Sharon?" Her voice was thick with sleep and Sharon wondered when the last time was Brenda had actually slept.

"Ssssh," Sharon whispered and covered Brenda's hand with hers. "Get in the bed and go back to sleep."

Brenda stood up, shrugged herself out of her cardigan and peeled her sweatpants down her legs, then slipped back into bed and pulled the sheets up to her chest. Sharon climbed into bed too, took off her glasses and reached to switch off the light. She waited for her eyes to adapt to the dark. The mattress dipped a little as Brenda moved beside her. Brenda's toes touched Sharon's leg and she shivered at the contact.

It had been a long time since she'd actually shared her bed with anyone. Brenda had spent the night before but had always slept on the sofa and, after Rusty moved out, in the guest bedroom. This was the first time she was actually in Sharon's bed. It was strangely comforting to feel the warmth of another body beneath the sheets. Sharon didn't realise just how much she'd missed that feeling.

"Sharon?" Brenda's voice was small.

"Yes?"

"I'm scared."

It was like Brenda to only admit her fear in the dark, where she could still hide herself, Sharon thought.

"I know. And I wish I could say something to make that go away."

Sharon waited, although she didn't quite know what for. She carefully rolled over, mindful of the small space between her and Brenda that they had both instinctively created. An invisible wall that separated them on the mattress. She knew she was now facing the other woman's back. Carefully she reached out and found Brenda's upper arm. She touched it and found the skin soft and warm. When Brenda didn't move away, Sharon closed the distance between them and carefully wrapped her arm around Brenda's waist. The blonde's curls tickled her face as Sharon buried herself against Brenda's shoulder. She felt Brenda relax under her arm and tried not to think about how perfectly their bodies fitted together like this.

"Try to sleep some more," Sharon whispered. "Tomorrow we'll figure things out." Her thumb rubbed the back of Brenda's hand. Brenda didn't answer and Sharon determined from the deep, steady breathing that Brenda had fallen back asleep.

She considered moving back to her own side of the bed, away from Brenda, but the warmth was comforting and she was still rubbing Brenda's hand, and she was eventually lulled into a dreamless sleep.

She woke to the sound of her alarm and reached to switch it off. Her body felt heavy and when she looked down she realised it was because Brenda's arm was wrapped around her waist, fingers splayed out over her hip, the fabric of her nightgown having risen up far enough to show pale flesh. Sharon froze for just a second, growing aware of Brenda's sleeping form pressed against her back. She could feel the swell of the other woman's breasts, the length of her legs against her own, and a foot that pressed against her calf. She slowly let her breath escape, allowing herself a few precious seconds wrapped up in Brenda's body. But then reality kicked in and carefully Sharon slipped out from under Brenda's arm and left the bed.

The carpet in her bedroom was plush and thick yet cold and she opened her wardrobe. She took a pair of dark blue jeans and a simple white Henley shirt and chose a pair of simple blue panties and white bra from her underwear drawer.

She got dressed in the ensuite, brushed her hair and her teeth, applied a minimal amount of make-up and then began gathering items she would need for the days ahead. She found her travel case for her toiletries under the sink, threw in the necessary items with a little less care than she normally would have, and carried the bag back into the bedroom.

She found Brenda awake and sitting up in the bed, her bed, thick curls cascading down her shoulders and back. She looked up, eyes wide, when Sharon walked in and seemed surprised to see the brunette fully dressed.

"I know you don't have any clean clothes here but you're welcome to borrow some of mine if you want to have a shower," Sharon offered. "I thought we can pick up your stuff on the way to the airport."

"Airport?" Brenda questioned.

"I managed to book us on the 10.30 flight to Atlanta," Sharon said softly. "You should be at your father's bedside by this afternoon."

Brenda's hand covered her mouth, tears glistening in her eyes. "Oh Sharon..."

"Go take a shower. I'll get you some clothes, finish packing and make some coffee." Sharon tried not to stare when Brenda kicked back the sheets and slipped out of bed wearing nothing more than her black boy shorts and white tank top. Had the blonde's legs always been that long? Sharon tried not to long back for the moment where she had felt Brenda's body wrapped around her own.

Brenda disappeared into the ensuite and Sharon took out another pair of jeans, a purple sweatshirt and a pair of white panties and left them on the bed for Brenda. "There are clean towels in the cupboard!" she called when she heard the shower being switched on. It was followed by a muffled "Thank you."

Sharon then picked several more pairs of pants and some shirts as well as underwear and folded them neatly into her suitcase. She put her make-up bag on top, grabbed her phone charger and her spare set of glasses that she kept in her bedside drawer and put them in the suitcase too. From the bottom of her wardrobe she took her favourite pair of boots and a pair or black flat ballerinas and then zipped up her suitcase.

She wheeled it along behind her and left it by the front door before making her way into the kitchen. She made coffee, switched on the printer and printed off the boarding passes for their flight. She'd just put them on the kitchen table when she heard Brenda come in and Sharon turned around.

Brenda leant against the wall, hands tucked into the pockets of the jeans she was wearing. Her wet curls tumbled down her shoulders and the purple sweater was a little baggy around her slender frame but the colour suited her. She was watching Sharon with great curiosity.

"Coffee?" Sharon offered.

"Please," Brenda replied. She accepted the cup Sharon gave her and breathed in the familiar aroma. From over the rim of her cup she looked at Sharon. "How did you get us on a flight? I tried the redeye and I tried all the airlines for a flight leavin' this mornin' but everyone said they were full."

"I called in a favour," Sharon said knowingly. "Brenda, you should be with your family right now. If I hadn't been able to get us on a flight, I would've driven you to Atlanta myself."

Sharon was quite close to her own father and she tried not to think about losing him. He was getting older, and his health was deteriorating, but he was still playing golf once a week with his buddies. She'd never been close to her mother. Margaret O'Dwyer had died thirty years ago and Sharon would sometimes shudder at the thought of her sternness, her expectations. A strict Catholic woman, she had instilled the fear of God in all her children, which resulted in the necessary rebellion when they reached their teens and twenties. Sharon knew that none of her siblings went to church anymore.

"You're goin' with me?" Brenda asked when she realised Brenda had said 'us' and Sharon nodded. "What about your work?"

"I already spoke to Lieutenant Provenza. He will be in charge during my absence."

"Flynn's goin' to love that."

Sharon just smirked at that.

They finished their coffees without speaking much and once the empty cups had been placed in the dishwasher, Sharon took her keys and together they left the condo. Sharon locked the door, informed the concierge downstairs she would be gone for a few days, and then she and Brenda made their way to the parking lot. Sharon found Brenda's car parked next to her own.

"I'll meet you at yours and we'll take my car to the airport," Sharon said as she climbed behind the wheel.

The drive to Brenda's bungalow took about thirty-five minutes, thanks to morning traffic, and when Sharon pulled up on the drive, she found Brenda's car already parked and the front door partially ajar.

"How many traffic violations did you commit driving here?" Sharon asked when she walked into Brenda's bedroom. She froze in the doorway when she saw Brenda standing by the bed, suitcase open and a pile of clothes thrown haphazardly into it. But she had taken off the purple sweater Sharon had lent her, thrown it onto the white sheets with red roses print and now wore only the jeans and her bra.

"Sorry," Sharon mumbled, her cheeks suddenly burning red. She averted her eyes, focusing on something on the floor instead. She'd been in Brenda's bedroom many times but this was the first time she'd seen Brenda without a shirt. Her stomach tightened.

"It's ok." Brenda didn't seem to notice Sharon was blushing. "But the sweater's a little warm." She pulled a grey sleeveless vest over her head, found a hair band to tie her curls into a messy bun and then threw in a pair of sandals into her suitcase, on top of some floral skirts, a few dresses and two pairs of jeans. She found her straighteners in the bathroom, collected her favourite items of make-up and shoved her toothbrush in the front pocket of the case. She then zipped it up, grabbed her sunglasses and turned to Sharon. The brunette could see the nerves etched across Brenda's face. She knew she was frightened.

"Let's go,"' Sharon said. "Did you let your brother know you're coming?"

Brenda nodded. "I text him a few minutes ago. He said he'll call me when we get to Atlanta." She swallowed hard. "He also text me an update on Daddy."

Sharon had been afraid to ask. "How is he?"

"The same. The doctors are keeping him asleep for now. Somethin' to do with wantin' to keep him as relaxed and comfortable as possible. Knowin' Daddy, if he were awake, he'd be demandin' to go home."

Sharon grinned. She'd met Clay a handful of times and she'd guessed he wasn't easiest man to have as a patient. It was a trait that had been passed along from father to daughter, she thought, as she followed Brenda out of the bedroom and eventually out of the bungalow. Brenda locked the door, threw her suitcase in the trunk of Sharon's car and got into the passenger seat.

Sharon drove them to the airport and they checked in at the airline's check in desk. Brenda texted her brother again for another update and her phone bleeped before she'd even put it back in her purse.

"Charlie's come home," she said when she looked up from her phone. "Jimmy says Bobby picked her up this mornin."

Sharon didn't answer straight away but a feeling of foreboding settled in her stomach. She had only ever met Brenda's parents during the holidays but she knew Brenda had three brothers. Jimmy, who she was texting with, and who lived with his partner Frank in New York. Then there was Clay Jr who was married to Amy and then, the youngest of them all, Bobby who was married to Joyce and was Charlie's father. Sharon had heard a lot of stories about Charlie and she knew Brenda was very fond of her niece. The fact that Charlie had come home made her worry about what it was they would find when they reached Atlanta.

"She's at university, isn't she?" Sharon steered Brenda towards the Starbucks coffee shop. "I seem to remember you're saying she's a few years older than Rusty."

Brenda nodded. "I'll have to invite her for Christmas. She and Rusty would get on great."

Sharon had no doubt that they would. The two of them would probably be able to swap stories about her and Brenda for weeks. Then it hit her. Did Brenda just suggest spending Christmas with her and Rusty? Sharon shelved that thought somewhere in the back of her mind and ordered a double espresso for herself and a hot chocolate for Brenda.

There were no empty seats so they got their drinks to go and Brenda suggested making their way over to the gate. Sharon watched the younger woman from the corner of her eye. Brenda was picking at the lid on her cup, her teeth worrying her bottom lip. They were Brenda's tell signs. She was nervous. Sharon couldn't imagine Brenda's fear. Her parents, as much as they annoyed her, had been her everything and losing her Mama had been hard on her. It had to be hard to be so far away from all her family in times of crisis.

Brenda's phone bleeped and she opened the message. Sharon saw the colour drain from her face and she asked, "What is it?"

"Jimmy. He wants me to call him. Now."

Brenda's hands were shaking when she dialed her brother's number. She sat next to Sharon on one of those horrible metal seats. She felt sick, could taste the bike in her throat. Her heart thundered wildly in her chest and she held her cell phone so tightly, her knuckles turned white.

"Jimmy, is everythin' OK?" Brenda asked when her brother answered. Sharon heard the echo of fear in her voice and carefully placed a hand on Brenda's knee. To her surprise, Brenda covered her hand with her own.

"What do you mean, 'the doctors are worried'? Worried about what?" Panic filled Brenda's eyes. "What does that mean?" Then the tears came. First they glistened in the corners of Brenda's eyes but then they fell and rolled down her cheeks. She swallowed hard. "I'll be there as fast as I can. Our plane leaves in half an hour."

She hung up, dropped the phone in her lap but didn't speak.

"Brenda?" Sharon softly squeezed Brenda's knee.

"Daddy's heart... It's badly damaged. Somethin' about there not bein' enough blood bein' pumped round. The doctors... They're not sure..." She wiped a stray tear from her cheek. "They're not sure what's goin' to happen next."

Sharon briefly closed her eyes. The feeling of dread in her stomach only grew heavier. "Oh Brenda, I'm so sorry."

Brenda's voice was flat. "I'm just sorry I couldn't get to him sooner."

They boarded the flight twenty minutes later and Brenda, who sat by the window, looked at the tarmac and the runway as the plane prepared itself to taxi away from the gate. She tried to remember the last time she'd spoken to her Daddy. Was it last week, or the week before? He'd called one of the nights and she'd been busy. Had called him back when she was already in bed, surrounded by paperwork. She'd only half listened to what he'd said and she desperately tried to remember what it was; she tried to hold on to the sound of his voice. He'd asked her if she'd come visit soon... And now she was. Just not under the circumstances they'd wanted. She wondered if the guilt she felt after losing her Mama would ever go away. Willie Rae had wanted to talk to her about something but Brenda had been too busy, kept saying 'later.' And then time just ran out. She'd never found out what her Mama had wanted to talk to her about.

Sharon watched Brenda stare out of the small window. The plane started moving and joined the queue of plans waiting to take off from LAX.

The flight was just over three hours long and Brenda spent most of it asleep. Sharon watched her, felt the strong urge to protect and shield her somehow. Brenda's head rested against the plane window. She hadn't bothered to undo her seatbelt even though the light had been switched off some time ago. Sharon's own seatbelt was still fastened too.

Sharon watched Brenda sleep. Her features had relaxed; gone was the worry Sharon had seen since Brenda first showed up at her door the previous night. The blonde appeared exhausted and despite the stress and the worry, Sharon felt relieved Brenda was able to rest. As she watched Brenda's sleeping form, she was once again reminded of how far she and Brenda had come

Ten years ago, when their paths had first crossed in that hospital corridor, she couldn't have imagined she would be accompanying Brenda to be at her sick father's bedside. Their friendship had grown and they had grown too. Brenda had become a steady fixture in her and Rusty's life and after her divorce, Brenda had started coming over even more often. There was maybe only one night a week they didn't see or speak to each other. Sometimes Brenda would already be at the condo when Sharon came home. She had a key, would let herself in. Coming home to find Brenda standing in her kitchen cooking dinner, or to see her just lounging on her couch watching TV, had helped her cope with the emptiness left behind by Rusty going to college and although Brenda had never admitted it, Sharon knew that it helped Brenda cope with being on her own again too. She actually looked forward to going home most days, even after the darkest moments, because she knew Brenda would be there.

When the plane started its descend and eventually touched down at Hartsfield-Jackson International, Brenda woke up. She looked around, slightly bewildered, as if she needed a few moments to remember where she was and why she was there, and then caught Sharon looking at her. She smiled sheepishly and Sharon smiled back.

"You ok?" she inquired.

"Yeah." Brenda didn't sound too certain.

They collected their suitcases from one of the baggage belts only half an hour after having touched down and Brenda's phone rang just as they were walking towards Arrivals. She answered and Sharon guessed it was her brother.

"Clay? I was expectin' Jimmy. Yeah, we're here now. We'll be out in a minute. Yes, I said 'we.' Well, me and Sharon of course!" She rolled her eyes and Sharon wondered if Brenda had actually given her family any indication she was bringing Sharon with her.

Sharon decided that it was better not to ask any questions and instead she and Brenda walked into the arrivals hall. Brenda paused for a moment, scanning the faces of the people waiting, and then waved at a tall man with dirty blonde hair and a matching beard. He was dressed in a pair of jeans with a tear on the right knee, a white t-shirt and a brown leather jacket. His skin was tanned by the sun and when she came closer, Sharon could see the unmistakable Johnson family resemblance. He was a few years older than Brenda, with creases along his eyes and cheeks but Clay Jr. shared Brenda's brown eyes.

"Brenda Leigh!" Clay Jr boomed when he saw his sister and Brenda seemed to just disappear in his arms when he enveloped her in a big hug. It appeared that Clay Jr didn't just share his father's name, but also his imposing statue.

"How's Daddy?" was the first thing Brenda asked when her brother let her go. Sharon saw something in Brenda's face she couldn't immediately identify. She seemed colder somehow, more distant. Was she trying to protect herself or was it something else?

Clay's face said more than a thousand words. He didn't have to say it out loud. Sharon knew it wasn't good.

"You must be Sharon."

Sharon smiled when Clay addressed her and shook his hand. It felt strong and rough. A man who was used to working with his hands. She remembered Brenda telling her he was a carpenter. "Yes," she replied. "Sharon Raydor. I have heard a lot about you. It's nice to finally meet you, I just wish it was under happier circumstances."

Clay merely nodded, shot another glance at Brenda and then the three of them left the arrival hall and Clay took the two women to his car. Sharon tried not to look surprised when she saw a shiny new truck; this was Atlanta after all. The air was dry and hot, different from the heat she was used to in Los Angeles, and she welcomed the cool breeze of Clay Jr's air conditioning. She'd gotten in the back of the truck and Brenda sat next to her brother. Their gazes briefly locked in the rear view mirror.

"Did Charlie arrive?" Brenda wanted to know and Clay nodded.

"An hour ago. She's at the hospital with Bobby and Jimmy."

They didn't speak much throughout the journey and Sharon wondered if it was because of the reason they were here or because the relationship between Brenda and Clay Jr was strained. Brenda only talked about her family every so often and when she did, it was usually about her father or her brothers Jimmy and Bobby. She mentioned Clay every so often but nowhere near as often as the others.

Sharon saw Brenda look out of the window as Atlanta flashed by outside. Her face seemed hardened, as if she somehow had to defend herself. The city's skyline was beautiful, Sharon had to admit, though it wasn't exactly Los Angeles. The sky was clear and blue, void of clouds. It would have been a beautiful drive were it not for the fact that they were heading for the hospital's intensive care department.

The hospital car park was quite full but Clay found a spot not too far from the front door. Brenda and Sharon followed Clay into the main reception area, both wheeling their suitcases behind them, and he led them to the elevator. Brenda was struck by that awful familiar hospital smell. She'd spent plenty of time in hospitals to recognise the smell; rubber gloves and disinfectant. She'd always found it to be an ominous smell. The elevator doors slid open and they stepped inside. Sharon shot Brenda a sideways glance. The silence was almost unbearable and she wanted to ask what was going on but Brenda was staring at the floor, hands tucked into the pockets of her jeans. Sharon's jeans. Clay pressed the number 4 and the doors slid shut.

When the doors opened again, they stepped out into a brightly lit corridor. Clay walked fast and Sharon increased her pace so she could fall into step bedside Brenda. "Is everything ok?" she asked.

"Not now," Brenda hissed back just as they turned a corner. She spotted the sign for the ICU over their heads and clay waited for them at the next set of double doors. A couple of doctors walked past them as they entered through the doors and they found themselves standing in the ICU.

"This way," Clay said and he led them to one of the rooms at the end of the hall. The door to room 423 was closed and the blinds were drawn but Sharon could tell the light was on inside. Clay didn't knock but simply opened the door. Voices fell silent when he entered and Brenda followed.

"Aunt Brenda!" Charlie flung her arms around Brenda's neck and hugged her so tightly, she almost knocked Brenda off her feet.

Brenda welcomed her niece's embrace and enveloped her in her arms. "Charlie," she whispered into the girl's ear. Well, she was a young woman now. "It's so good to see you."

Brenda then hugged her brother Bobby and his wife Joyce, Charlie's parents, and her sister-in-law Amy, who was Clay's wife. Last was Brenda's brother Jimmy. Sharon had to blink to make sure she wasn't seeing double. If someone had told her Jimmy and Brenda were twins, she would have believed them instantly. His hair was still thick and blonde, with curls. No signs of grey even though he was approaching sixty. He had the same facial features and the same brown eyes. The way he embraced his sister told Sharon that they had the closest relationship and when Brenda moved on to Jimmy's partner Frank, the reaction was the same.

She hovered in the doorway for a few more seconds before Brenda turned around and looked at her, then smiled and told her to come in. Sharon did and found herself surrounded by the Johnson clan. She and Brenda looked at the bed at the same time and Sharon felt whatever little bit of positivity she had left, slip away. For lack of a better word, Clay Johnson Sr. looked terrible.

"Oh Daddy," Brenda whispered as she sank down in the armchair at the side of the bed. Tentatively she picked up her father's hand. The heart monitor beeped every couple of seconds, indicating a steady and calm heartbeat. Clay was receiving oxygen and was hooked up to two different drips, each attached to an IV in his hand. His skin was almost grey and Sharon thought he looked older than she'd ever seen him.

"Daddy, it's me, Brenda Leigh. I'm here now," Brenda whispered. Her fingers ghosted over her father's clammy forehead and she kissed his face. She then brought her head down to his chest as if to listen to his heartbeat, like she needed to reassure herself that he was really still here. Sharon felt a sharp pang of pain in her chest. This felt too intimate for her to watch. She didn't belong here. She heard Brenda whisper, "We're all here now. The whole family. Everyone's here."

Sharon felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to find Jimmy standing behind her. He smiled when he saw her startled reaction.

"It's a little overwhelming, ain't it?" He said and Sharon nodded. "You must be Sharon. Brenda Leigh has talked about you an awful lot. I'm Jimmy."

"Nice to meet you," Sharon replied. "I'm sorry it's under these circumstances." She looked back at Brenda, her head still on Clay's chest. Around them people were talking among themselves and Sharon felt grateful Jimmy had taken the time to talk to her. She felt like an outsider, like a stranger looking in at what was a very intimate family situation. "What have the doctors said?"

"All we can do is wait and see. His heart is badly damaged. This ain't his first heart attack and the damage has been done. His heart's strugglin'," Jimmy replied. His kind eyes met Sharon's. She could tell he was putting on a brave face. Her years of experience as a police officer had taught her to look beyond the façade.

"Thank you for gettin' Brenda here, Sharon."

Sharon wanted to say that he didn't need to thank her but she couldn't speak. She saw Brenda sitting at her father's bedside and she felt like an intruder, like this wasn't a place where she belonged. The people in this room didn't know her, she didn't know them aside from the stories Brenda has told about them, and she had walked in on a private, intimate moment.

So when she found herself standing outside of Clay Johnson's room, the door having closed quietly behind her, she released her breath and rested her head against the wall. She hated hospitals. Always had. It wasn't going to change. The ICU was quiet. The doors to the others rooms were closed and Sharon tried not to think about the tragedies that were taking place behind those walls. She looked down the corridor. The nurses and doctors were sitting at the nurses' station.

The door opened behind her and Sharon looked up. Charlie appeared and when she saw Sharon, she smiled. "Hi."

"Hi," Sharon replied. "You're Charlie, right? Brenda's told me a lot about you."

"I'd better not ask what it is she's told you," Charlie grinned.

Sharon arched a knowing eyebrow. She was very well aware of exactly what it was Charlie had done. "Brenda says you make amazing brownies."

Charlie's cheeks flushed red but she smiled anyway. "I haven't made those for a long time." She tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear. There was something disarming about the young woman, Sharon thought. She had grown up from the rebellious teenager Brenda had described into a young woman studying Law.

"I was gonna get some coffee. You want anythin'?" Charlie's question surprised Sharon and she shook her head.

"Thank you," she replied. "But I'm good."

Sharon watched Charlie walk away towards the elevator and took a deep breath. She leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes. Her heart felt heavy and her head felt tired. The lack of sleep of recent days as well as the difficult case she'd worked and the journey to Atlanta were starting to take their toll. She dug her phone out of her pocket and saw she had a text message from Rusty.

It read, _I'm thinking about coming to LA for the weekend. Are you home?_

Rusty being at college in San Diego meant he was still close enough to come visit and far enough away to feel like he had his own life. Sharon didn't begrudge him wanting to feel like he finally had a chance at something that was completely his own making and she'd encouraged him going to San Diego. She began typing her reply.

 _I'm in Atlanta with Brenda. Family emergency. I don't really know what's happening yet but I'll keep you posted._ She added an x to mark a kiss and hit send.

She'd just slipped the phone back in her pocket when the door behind her opened again. She turned around to find Brenda walking out of her father's room. There were red rings around her eyes, like she'd been crying, and Sharon instantly walked over and wrapped Brenda up in her arms. The younger woman collapsed against Sharon's chest.

"Oh, Brenda, I'm so sorry," Sharon whispered. Her fingers threaded through Brenda's hair.

"I never thought I'd see him like this."

"It's difficult to see our parents as anything other than immortal," Sharon quietly answered. "We forget they are human too. We expect them to always be the way we see them in our minds."

"Clay said that they're going to go home for a few hours. Get some sleep, take a shower. Everyone's been here since last night. I said we'd stay with Daddy tonight." Brenda looked at Sharon with big brown questioning eyes. "Is that ok?"

Sharon squeezed Brenda's hand. "Of course it is."

"Why are you out here?" Brenda wanted to know. "I looked up and Jimmy said you'd gone."

"Brenda, this is your family. I was trying to give you some space to deal with what's happened. It's a lot to take in. You've got all your brothers there, and Charlie, and your sisters-in-law..."

"You're my family too," Brenda cut her off. "And I'm sure by now you've noticed not everythin' is plain sailin' in the Johnson family." She pulled a face and Sharon felt that, since Brenda had opened the door, she could ask.

"Clay Jr?"

Brenda wrinkled her nose. "I wonder what gave it away." She shook her head. "I don't think he ever forgave me for divorcin' Stephen."

"Your first husband."

"My first mistake. One of many."

"You said he was no good. Why would Clay have a problem with you divorcing him?"

"One thing you gotta know about my brother is that he likes things to go a certain way. Think of my Daddy and then make it ten times worse. Clay's very Southern and traditional in his ways. I don't think he and Jimmy talk to each other at all besides aat Christmas and Thanksgiving."

Sharon arched an eyebrow. "He has a problem with Jimmy being gay?"

"He never said it out loud but you don't need to be a genius to read between the lines." Brenda sighed. "Mama was always the one to bring everyone back together. Daddy tried but it ain't the same. This family..." There was a sadness in Brenda's eyes that made Sharon hurt inside. "It's gonna fall apart when he's gone."

The door opened again and Clay Jr and Amy came out into the hallway. Amy's hand rested on her husband's forearm. Sharon realised she hadn't heard the woman speaks a single word since their arrival. She'd sat silently in the corner of the room.

"We're gonna go on home for a bit," Amy said and Sharon was surprised when she didn't hear the familiar Georgian accent. Amy sounded like she came from the East Coast. Boston, maybe. "Call us if anything changes." She put a hand on Brenda's arm. "Do you have a key to your parents' house?"

Brenda nodded. "Try and get some sleep. I'll call you."

"You want to go back inside?" Sharon offered once Brenda's brother was out of hearing range.

Together they walked back into Clay's room and found Bobby and Jimmy sitting around the bed. Joyce and Frank were occupying the two other available chairs but Frank stood up when Brenda came in and offered her his seat.

"Charlie's gone to get some coffee," Sharon explained when she saw Joyce look at the door in expectation.

"We'll see her downstairs then," Bobby said. He patted his father's hand and then kissed Brenda on her head as he passed her. "Call me immediately if there's any change."

"I will," she promised him. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Bobby and Joyce left, leaving only Jimmy and Frank.

"I'm just so glad Jimmy and I were in Atlanta," Frank said, his eyes fixed on Clay. "We only arrived two days ago."

"Are you staying at the house?" Brenda asked and Jimmy nodded.

"I don't want to think about what would've happened if we hadn't been there," Jimmy said. Sharon could see the shadow of pain on his face. "Now that he lives there alone..." He didn't need to finish that sentence.

"Because of you he's still here," Brenda whispered. "We've all gotta be grateful for that."

"When we get back we'll set up the other guest room for you and Sharon," Frank suggested. "At least that way you know you've got a place to go. How long will you be staying?"

Sharon answered before Brenda did. "As long as it takes."

"Are you sure you're goin' to be all right here?" Jimmy wanted to know. "We could stay, you know."

"Go," Brenda told him. "Between us, Sharon and I have seen the inside of a hospital more times than the rest of this family combined. We'll be fine. Go get some sleep, somethin' to eat. I'll call you."

She kissed Jimmy on his cheek and then did the same to Frank. The two men shook Sharon's hand and stepped out of the room. Once they were gone only silence remained, interrupted every couple of seconds by the beeping of the heart monitor attached to Clay. Sharon looked at Brenda and saw the haunted look in her eyes; it was the look of a woman facing something she wasn't ready to face.

"Come," she said as she dragged one of the two chairs to the other side of the bed so they could sit next to each other. "We'll sit for a while and you can decide if you want to talk or just..."

Brenda sank down in one of the chairs and Sharon walked over to the corner of the room where she'd left their suitcases. She opened Brenda's and shook her head at how the blonde had packed it. All the items were just thrown in. Nothing was neatly folded and there was no logic to any of it. Sharon rummaged around and pulled aside a light blue vest and a pair of pyjama shorts with cupcakes on them to find the item she was looking for. She zipped the case up again and walked back to Brenda, handing her the familiar oatmeal coloured cardigan.

Brenda smiled up at her as she wrapped herself up in her security blanket. "Thank you, Sharon."

Sharon sat down and folded her hands in her lap. "I wish I'd gotten to know your father a little better. He seems like such a nice man." Clay had his traits Sharon wasn't too sure about but she knew Brenda loved her father.

"He only ever really wanted the best for us all when we were growin' up. It was hard, movin' from base to base, startin' over every single time. But that's what life in the army is like sometimes."

Sharon suddenly saw an image of a young Brenda Leigh surrounded by moving boxes, looking lost, wondering how to start over again. She wondered if that's why Brenda had moved from Atlanta to Washington, back to Atlanta and then to Los Angeles. Because leaving a place and starting over somewhere else was all she'd ever known,

"He didn't want me to join the CIA. I think he was naturally distrustful. Probably knew things from his time in the army. He never really talked about it. When I joined the police, he still wasn't happy. Too dangerous. Not the kind of job he wanted his little girl to do. I don't think I ever quite grew up in his eyes."

Sharon nodded in agreement. "Kids never do."

Brenda looked at her father. His face was ashen. "I think they wanted me to have what they had. A marriage that lasts a lifetime, a house full of kids. I never quite fitted the picture of what they had in mind." She looked down at her hand holding Clay's. For years he'd tried to hold her hand and now she held his. "I know he was disappointed when Fritz and I divorced. I'm just glad I didn't have to see the disappointment in my Mama's eyes too."

Brenda's pain was so raw, it left Sharon hurting inside. "Brenda, he just wants you to be happy. It's all any parent really wants for their child."

She reached out and put her hand on Brenda's. Brenda smiled and leaned in, rested her head on Sharon's shoulder. They sat like this, both their hands on top of Clay's, waiting, not knowing what lay ahead. And as the hours began to pass, storm clouds packed together in the Atlanta sky. First came the rain, lashing against the window and then the thunder rolled.

~()~

The sharp sound of something beeping ripped her from her dreamless sleep and Brenda sat up with a jolt. Beside her, Sharon jumped out of her chair, dragging Brenda to her feet too. They'd both been curled up in their chairs, asleep, their bodies close together. Now they looked bewildered, trying to understand what was happening. At that same moment the door flew open, lights were switched on and voices filled the room.

Four nurses and a doctor rushed to Clay's bedside and only then did Sharon see the flat line on the monitor and realised that it was the sound that had woken her and Brenda from their sleep.

"Daddy?!" Brenda cried. Her voice was unlike anything Sharon had heard before. Anguish, desperation, and fear all followed each other in rapid succession. "Daddy?! What's happening?!"

"He's coding!" one of the nurses screamed, not at Brenda but at the other medical professionals in the room, and the two women watched on in horror as one of the nurses, a woman with short cropped brown hair and in her early thirties, jumped on the bed and started performing CPR.

"Oh God."

Brenda said it so quietly that Sharon almost didn't hear it. She turned to look at her. Brenda was shaking; her body trembled all over. Tears slid down her cheeks and Sharon wrapped both her arms around Brenda and pulled her close, placed a comforting kiss on her head and slowly tried to pull her away from the bed, tried to get her to look away from what was happening. Brenda seemed frozen on the spot, her eyes transfixed on the nurse sitting on her father's bed, counting loudly as she pressed down on Clay's chest.

"Get ready to charge!" The doctor shouted and the nurse slid off the bed. Clay's shirt had been ripped open and the doctor charged the paddles on the crash kart. He placed them on Clay's chest and called, "Clear!"

Everyone let go off the bed and off Clay and the shock was sent through his body. It lifted his head and chest a couple of inches off the bed before collapsing again. Seven sets of eyes, including Sharon and Brenda's, darted to the heart monitor. The line remained flat. Brenda turned her head away, pressed her face against Sharon's shoulder. Sharon's arms wrapped around Brenda a little tighter and she fought against her own panic bubbling up inside her.

The paddles charged again with that same eerie sound. "Clear!" The doctor shouted a second time. Another jolt was sent through Clay's body. A couple of seconds passed in silence and then a familiar beeping sound returned. Once. Twice... Spikes appeared on the heart monitor in a steady rhythm and relief filled the faces of the nurses standing around the bed.

"We've got a heartbeat!"

Brenda looked over her shoulder at the bed. The nurses were unhooking all the monitors and IV stands from the sockets on the wall and began wheeling the bed towards the door. She tried to free herself from Sharon's embrace but the older woman's grip tightened, holding her back.

"Where're you takin' him?" Brenda asked.

"Surgery," the doctor replied. "His heart is severely damaged. We need to try and fix as much of that damage as we can. The only way to do that is to go in and see what's going on." He put a hand on Brenda's arm. "I'm sorry."

And then they were gone.

Sharon and Brenda were left in the empty room, arms wrapped around each other, and with the sound of the rain still lashing against the windows as the only sound.

They were moved to a waiting room on another floor after about fifteen minutes of helplessly standing in the empty room. This was where the operating rooms were. The waiting room was small, with only eight seats and hideous green carpet and sterile looking white walls. A stash of magazines, most of them over a year old and boasting outrageous stories about celebrities, lay on a small table in the corner. A small box of toys had been pushed underneath it. Sharon prayed no child ever found themselves having to sit in this room.

It was Sharon who made the calls. She was the one to inform all three of Brenda's brothers what had happened and that Clay was now in surgery. She spoke calmly and clearly, like she would if she had to give bad news to family members connected to a case she was working. The longer she talked, the more she became aware of herself and how she sounded. She didn't like it, it didn't feel right because this was Brenda and Brenda was family, not some case she worked back at Major Crimes, but it was all she had to hold on to in this moment.

She got Brenda coffee. It came from one of those horrible machines and it tasted cheap but it warmed up their cold and worried insides, and gave Brenda something to hold. She then got on the phone to Los Angeles after having walked out of the small waiting room and out of hearing range, and waited for Provenza to answer.

"Captain," he said and Sharon heard voices in the background. Sirens too and she realised they'd rolled out. She'd caught him in the middle of a crime scene and she instantly regretted picking up the phone in the first place. "What can I do for you?"

"Lieutenant, that family emergency I told you about," Sharon began. She looked back over her shoulder through the waiting room window at Brenda. She looked so small and fragile sitting in one of the chairs, staring at the floor. The bright light of the room made her skin look ghostly pale. "It's Brenda."

"The Chief?" It went quiet for a moment. "Is everything ok?"

"Her father had a heart attack and half an hour ago he was rushed in for emergency surgery." Sharon sighed. She didn't want Brenda to hear what she said next. "It's not looking good, Lieutenant."

"I understand."

"You know what I mean."

"I do." Another pause. "Do you want me to talk to the others?"

"Please," Sharon answered. "And can you call Rusty too? He knows I'm in Atlanta but I think... I think he needs to be told." The lump in her throat wouldn't shift. "Just in case."

"I will," Provenza said and Sharon could only imagine his solemn face. "And, in case it helps, just tell the Chief... Brenda... Tell her we're thinking of her."

"I will," she promised. After saying "thank you" she hung up and walked back to Brenda, sat down beside her and took Brenda's hands into her own. They were cold, she noticed.

Heartbroken, Brenda whispered, "What if he dies?" Her eyes swam with tears.

Sharon didn't know what to say. She couldn't promise Brenda her father wouldn't die, no matter how badly she wanted to. She just looked down at their joined hands, Brenda's long and slender fingers laced through her own.

They had been at each other's side when things got rough for years. Brenda had been there, in the background, when Sharon adjusted to leading Major Crimes and opened her home to Rusty. Sharon had been there when Brenda had to learn to start living a different life away from LAPD. It had been Sharon Brenda came to whenever she and Fritz fought, which was often, and it was Brenda Sharon first confided in about adopting Rusty. When Brenda finally filed for divorce and moved out, Sharon came over and brought a bottle of champagne.

They were in each of her lives a lot. There was always a bottle of Merlot in Sharon's kitchen cupboard and a bar of chocolate in her pantry. Brenda had helped Rusty pack for college, had helped him fill in the paperwork because Sharon had to go to work. Brenda was her most honest critic, her best friend and her...

Home.

Brenda was home.

"I can't lose him, Sharon. I... What am I gonna do? I can't lose him."

"I know," was all Sharon could say. What other words were there that could ease Brenda's pain?

The door to the waiting room opened and Brenda looked up, hopeful. Sharon knew it wouldn't be the doctor. It had only been an hour since Clay was rushed in so when Bobby, Joyce and Charlie came in followed by Jimmy and Frank, Sharon didn't look as crushed as Brenda did.

"What happened?" Jimmy asked immediately.

Brenda opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. Tears trickled down her cheek.

Sharon stepped forward and said, "Your father went into cardiac arrest. They performed CPR and brought him back but they rushed him in to emergency surgery." She looked at Brenda. She was shaking uncontrollably. "The doctor said that all we can do is wait. I'm sorry."

"Thank you, Sharon," Bobby said. He watched as the brunette sat back down next to Brenda and wrapped an arm around his sister's shoulder. Brenda leaned in, resting herself against Sharon's body. He shared a look with Jimmy. "I'm glad you were here for Brenda when it happened."

Sharon looked up at Bobby. "I'm just glad I can be here to help. You've got enough on your minds as it is."

The door opened again and Clay Jr and Amy came in. "How is he?" Clay asked before the door had even closed.

"He's in surgery," Jimmy answered. "All we can do is wait."

Waiting was hard. Every minute was filled with dread, with fear. No one really spoke. Nine adults in a room and no more than ten words were said. Charlie sat on the floor, her back against Bobby's legs. Joyce was flicking through another magazine, having gone through three other ones before. She wasn't reading anything, just tried to busy her hands. Clay Jr was playing on his phone. Amy sat beside him, eyes focused on something Sharon couldn't see. Frank sat next to Amy, his hand on Jimmy's knee. Jimmy rested his head against the wall, his eyes closed.

Sharon's fingers threaded Brenda's hair. The blonde's head rested in her lap and Brenda lay curled up on her seat. She hadn't spoken for the last half an hour, not since she'd curled up like this. Sharon had felt her phone vibrate in her pocket a couple of times and suspected it was Rusty but she couldn't bring herself to look. It would mean disturbing Brenda and she just wanted the other woman to be comfortable.

She heard the rain rattle against the small window that overlooked an alleyway. The occasional flash of lightening lit up the dark skies and in the distance, the thunder roared.

It was half past three in the morning when Sharon spotted the surgeon, dressed in green scrubs, appear outside the waiting room door. When she looked at his face, she knew. She had seen those eyes before. They were the eyes of someone bringing bad news, the eyes of someone who knew he was about to tear apart the lives of all these people gathered here right now. She had been that person, knew what he felt. Sharon knew the guilt and the dread. She knew what was to come.

But no matter how much she thought she'd braced herself, no matter how much she felt she was prepared, when the surgeon quietly spoke the words "I'm sorry," Sharon's heart was ripped to shreds when Brenda's bone chilling cry cut through the silence and Sharon watched how before her eyes, Brenda fell apart.


	2. Chapter 2

Sharon stood in the kitchen of the Johnson home and poured coffee into several mugs. She heard the muffled voices coming from the living room and morning sunlight fell through the kitchen window onto the counter. The window overlooked the back yard and Sharon had stared out into that yard while she waited for the coffee to brew, had watched the sun climb out over the horizon.

Night had faded into day, the first day the Johnson siblings in the other room would face without their father. The first day of the rest of their lives without having their parents to fall back on or to talk to. The first day of a life that would forever be different.

Sharon looked around for a tray to put the cups on. She opened another cupboard next to the one where she had found the cups and found glasses. Wine glasses, ordinary glasses, champagne flutes... She closed the cupboard and turned towards another one, this time lower down. She opened it and saw cleaning products. The next one she opened contained pots and pans.

"Looking for this?" a voice asked and Sharon looked up to find Jimmy standing behind her. He'd pulled a tray from on top of the cupboard that held the cups and smiled when he gave it to Sharon

"Thank you," Sharon smiled and began putting the cups on the tray. She peered up at Jimmy through her eyelashes. He looked tired. His eyes had sunken a little deeper into his head. "How are you holding up?"

He shrugged. "I don't really know." He ruffled his hair and didn't maintain eye contact. "I mean, I always knew this day would come but now that it's here..." He swallowed. "When we walked into the house earlier, Dad's jacket was still on the back of his chair, like he was goin' to walk into the room any minute."

"You're going to be feeling that a lot in the coming days," Sharon answered. "And probably for a lot longer, too."

Jimmy sized her up. "Your parents?"

"My mother," Sharon quietly answered. "It's been a long time but I remember that feeling when we first walked into the house after she died. Everything was still the same and yet it wasn't." She looked up at Jimmy, saw that he was relieved that she understood what he meant. "It takes time but it will find its place."

Jimmy put a hand on her arm when she walked past him, tray in hand. "Thank you, Sharon. Thank you for everythin' you're doin' and have done already."

"Brenda's like family to me. This is what families do."

Sharon carried the tray into the living room and found Frank, Brenda, Bobby and Amy talking amongst themselves. Charlie had fallen asleep in what Sharon guessed was Clay's armchair. Clay Jr and Amy had chosen to go home after leaving the hospital. Sharon would never say it out loud but she suspected no one in this room got on with Clay Jr particularly well.

"Sharon." Brenda sounded relieved and she moved up a bit on the couch to make room for her. She smiled in appreciation when Sharon handed her the mug of steaming coffee. "Thank you."

"We were just talkin' about Daddy's funeral arrangements," Bobby said. "He and Mama have a family plot at the local cemetery so he will be buried alongside her. He made that quite clear in his will."

"Daddy had a will?" Brenda's eyebrows shot up. "He never told me that."

Bobby nodded. "He didn't tell anyone. Didn't want ya'll to think about his mortality, I guess. But he did it not long after Mama died. I think because her passin' caught everyone off guard, Daddy wanted to be prepared."

Brenda stood up. There were red tracks on her cheeks, Sharon noticed, but the tears had dried. "Where is it?"

"In the safe in his study."

"The code still Mama's birthday?"

Bobby nodded and Brenda left the living room and disappeared into a smaller room that led off the hall. Sharon had noticed it when they came into the house a few hours earlier. The door has been ajar and she'd caught a glimpse of an old fashioned looking desk and a large bookcase.

Brenda reappeared, carrying a light blue folder. She handed it to Bobby, who waited for his sister to sit down beside Sharon before opening it. Sharon, for the second time since her arrival in Atlanta, felt like she was intruding on something that was so inherently private. The people in this room were grieving and she was watching them, like an observer. Her eyes drifted to Frank and to Joyce. Sharon was the only one not related to any of the people here by blood or by marriage and yet everyone treated her the same. She shifted in her seat, drawing Brenda's attention.

"Sharon, you ok?"

"Fine," Sharon whispered. She put a hand on Brenda's knee. "But I think this is something you need to discuss as a family. I think I'll go unpack our suitcases in the bedroom." She stood up and started for the stairs, not giving Brenda a chance to protest or object.

Sharon climbed the stairs to the first floor and stood still when she reached the landing. Jimmy had said that the guest room he and Frank had prepared for her and Brenda was the third door to the left. Sharon looked in the general direction of the door when her gaze fell on the large family picture in an ornate frame hanging on the wall. A classic family Christmas picture. She'd seen many of those throughout her life, was even guilty of owning several.

She guessed Brenda was about sixteen in the picture. She stood next to her mother, wearing a deep red dress with short sleeves. Her blonde curls tumbled down her shoulders, accented by a bow that matched her dress. Sharon studied the image of young Brenda for a little while. She could see something in her, something that was still there today, but she couldn't name it. Young Brenda was beautiful and Sharon had no doubt that she had turned many heads in her High School days. She still turned heads now, even if she wasn't aware of it, or at least pretended not to be.

Sharon then looked at Clay. He was already bald, having lost all his hair at a young age. His skin was just as tanned by the sun as she remembered it being, but his face wasn't quite as round. His eyes were sharp; the eyes of a man who had been trained to look for danger. He wore a dark suit with a tie the same colour as Brenda's dress. He sat next to his wife, his hand covering hers. Willie Rae looked radiant and every bit as amazing as Sharon had known her to be. The dress she wore, cream in colour, suited her perfectly. Both she and Clay were smiling and it was the genuine smile of a husband and wife proud to have their family together.

Sharon turned away from the photo and walked down to the guest bedroom. The door creaked a little as it opened and behind it lay a room that was larger than Sharon had expected. The window overlooked the front of the house and the rest of the street. A queen sized bed had been neatly made up with fresh sheets with a light pink rose print. Sharon suddenly understood where Brenda got her passion for florals from. Their suitcases had been left at the end of the bed.

Sharon let her eyes drift around the room. Two small paintings adorned the wall to her right and to her left was a large old fashioned dark wooden wardrobe. A simple mirror hung next to it and a matching chest of drawers stood underneath the window. She then looked back at the bed. It appeared that she and Brenda would be sharing again.

Sharon took a deep breath and opened her suitcase. She'd just finished hanging her shirts in the wardrobe when the door opened and Brenda walked in. Their eyes almost immediately met.

"Hey," Sharon said softly. "What are you doing up here?"

"Bobby, Joyce and Charlie have gone home to sleep. Frank and Jimmy are in their room." Brenda looked around, seemingly lost. "I thought maybe..."

Sharon abandoned her suitcase and walked up to Brenda, took her by the hand and led her to the bed. She'd been surprised at how well Brenda coped with her grief. She seemed unusually calm and collected. Perhaps it was because she had faced this once before or perhaps it was shock and reality hadn't kicked in yet.

"You need to sleep," Sharon softly urged. The lack of sleep over the last few days was beginning to affect her and as much as she wanted to support Brenda, she knew she needed to rest. "We both do. Just a couple of hours."

"Maybe you're right."

"I'm always right."

Brenda rolled her eyes but said nothing. Instead she stood up, opened up her own suitcase and rummaged around in it. Sharon watched her, eyebrows raised, and couldn't resist commenting. "How do you even find anything in there?"

"Easy," Brenda answered, looking at Sharon over her shoulder. "Just keep lookin' till you find it." She held up the pair of pyjama shorts and an oversized LAPD t-shirt and sighed, "I need to get out of these clothes."

Before Sharon had chance to turn away, Brenda shrugged herself out of her cardigan and pulled her shirt over her head. Almost instantly, Sharon's gaze dropped to Brenda's breasts. The black bra she wore formed a sharp contract against her pale flesh and something inside of her snapped. She realised she was clenching her fists and tore her eyes away from her friend's body, feeling guilty that she had looked at Brenda like that while the blonde was grieving. Sharon took a couple of deep breaths and tried to focus on finding something a little more comfortable to sleep in, settling for a pair of black pyjama pants and the white t-shirt that went with it.

"Brenda, where's the bathroom?" she asked without looking up.

Brenda was peeling her jeans down her legs. "Right across the landing."

Sharon clutched her pyjamas and hurried out of the bedroom. She opened the door across from it and found herself standing in a large, spacious bathroom. The floor and the walls were tiled with big white porcelain tiles, the suite was white and light blue towels and curtains were the accent feature in the room. The shower cubicle was in the corner of the room, with the bath, sink and toilet on the opposite ends. In the small window sill stood a glass vase with fake lilies. Sharon rested her back against the door and fumbled around for the lock. She turned it and finally dared to let her breath escape.

She removed her glasses and splashed some cold water in her face. Then she looked at herself in the mirror. The rings around her eyes betrayed her tiredness and she wiped a few damp strands of brown hair out of her face. Her stomach tightened itself into an even bigger knot when she thought about going back into the bedroom.

She'd caught herself looking at Brenda before, had sometimes wondered what it was she felt when Brenda kissed her cheek or touched her arm. Rusty had asked her once why she wasn't dating and she'd answered that her life was full. There didn't need to be another person. She had him and Emily and Ricky. And she had Brenda. She'd even said it out loud that time. Her life was full because she had Brenda. Thinking about letting someone else in, losing what she had with Brenda, had not only frightened her, it had also made her realise that she didn't want to change it. She liked what she had, cherished it. Brenda was the person she came home to most nights and if that meant that there wouldn't be a sexual aspect to her life, then that was ok. Or was it?

Sharon wasn't exactly new to dating women. She'd dated several in college and several more after she and Jackson separated. She'd heard the rumours going round during her time in FID. It were mainly men who seemed to feel the need to mock her, to say that the bitch from Internal Affairs was a dyke. It had always been just rumours as she was careful never to date anyone connected to work but it seemed people just couldn't stop talking. The rumour mill had stopped when she took over Major Crimes. Perhaps because people knew Brenda had asked her, and people respected Brenda despite her reputation, or maybe because leading Major Crimes came with a new level of prestige where people just didn't gossip as much. She'd never considered herself gay or bisexual. She'd always just found herself attracted to a personality and gender had very little to do with that but it just happened to be that the nicer personalities were often found in women.

Sharon groaned. This was neither the time nor the place to even consider these thoughts about Brenda. She washed her hands, hoping the cold water would somehow help, and then changed into her pyjamas. She folded he clothes up into a neat bundle and carried them back to the bedroom. When she opened the door, the sound of soft crying hit her immediately.

Sharon dropped her clothes on the floor and padded over to the bed. Brenda lay on her side, her back turned towards the door. Sharon saw her shoulders were shaking and she carefully climbed on the bed and lay down next to Brenda. Carefully she slipped an arm across the younger woman's waist and pulled her towards her. To her surprise, Brenda rolled over and lay her head down on Sharon's chest. Tears trickled down her cheek.

"Sharon?"

"Yes?" She kissed Brenda's hair.

Brenda grabbed hold of her a little tighter, curled herself up against Sharon's body. "I really need to have you here right now."

Sharon's eyes fluttered shut at those words and her fingers ran through Brenda's curls. "I'm right here," she promised. "I'm not going anywhere."

Brenda knew she meant it.

~()~

Brenda walked into the living room and the first thing she saw was her father's arm chair. Seeing it empty, knowing he would never sit there again, felt like a knife being jammed into her heart.

She could still see her Daddy sitting in that chair and the longer she stood there, the more she swore she could hear his voice booming as he talked to his wife and children. Clay would never walk into this room again. There would no longer be family Christmases or Thanksgiving with him at the head of the table. Everything was going to change.

"Brenda?"

She turned to find Jimmy standing in the doorway that led to the kitchen. He'd changed clothes and looked well rested and Brenda saw his hair was wet. He held a mug of what she guessed was coffee before he handed it to her. He shook his head when he saw her pyjamas.

"You ok?" she asked him.

Jimmy thought about the answer for a moment. "I don't know," he confessed. "Are you?"

"I don't know." It was the most honest answer she had. She breathed in the strong scent of coffee. Jimmy always did like his coffee to be bold and strongly flavoured. She took a sip. It tasted bitter. There was no sugar in it. She swallowed it anyway because she couldn't spit it out.

"I keep thinkin' I should feel like I did when Mama died," she then said. "That moment, those first few days, it was as if everythin' just shattered. Maybe it was because we never saw it comin' or maybe because we just never really lost anyone before but I keep expectin' that Earth shatterin' devastation and it doesn't come. I feel empty, I feel lost... But I don't feel broken."

Jimmy nodded. "I think I know what you mean. And we got to say goodbye to Daddy, at least a little bit. We didn't get to do that with Mama. That, to me, makes a big difference."

Brenda followed her brother into the kitchen and found Frank by the stove. He was cooking and it smelt define. She sat down at the dining table, put the coffee down in front of her, and reminisced back to the first days after her mother's death. She'd walked around in sweatpants for four days, only showered once and lived on Mars bars. Didn't talk to anyone. Not to Fritz, not to her Daddy. She'd cried until she had no tears left to cry and then continued even when there were none. She'd become obsessed with finishing things off, in case there wasn't time later, because she'd learnt that later wasn't something you could take for granted. Her mother's death scarred her, bruised her, but also strengthened her.

"Where do we start with the arrangements?" Brenda wondered.

She remembered what she read in her father's will earlier and knew that he wanted to be buried alongside their mother but to actually start planning for a funeral… She hadn't done that before. When her Mama died, she'd let her brothers deal with all of it. Hadn't asked questions, hadn't had the strength to face it all. She regretted it now. It felt like she hadn't been able to close the book properly. This time she wanted that closure.

"The funeral director left a message on the answering machine. Must've called when we were all asleep. He'll call back later this afternoon to talk about what happens next." Jimmy ran a hand through his hair. "I assume Daddy would have wanted a church service."

"I don't think Clay will allow Daddy to be buried without one," Brenda reminded him. "Those two are..." She paused. "Were..." Her face fell. Using the past tense hurt. "So very much alike."

"I've started calling some family members. Uncles, aunts, Daddy's cousins, that kind of thing. Once we have a date for the funeral, I'll send the information to them."

It felt strange to sit in the kitchen of the home where her parents had lived for the last twenty years and talk about their father's funeral. Brenda never thought this day would come, never thought she'd sit in this kitchen and look out into the yard and know she'll never see her parents again.

"Is Sharon still asleep?" Jimmy asked and Brenda nodded.

She'd watched Sharon sleep when she first woke up. She looked peaceful and Brenda had begun to understand just how tired Sharon had to have been. She'd worked tirelessly for three days and then came to Atlanta with Brenda. Brenda could tell Sharon was sleeping hard. She didn't stir when Brenda slipped out of bed and padded around the room, hadn't moved when Brenda brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes.

"She worked three days straight before comin' here and she's been helpin' here too. I thought it best to let her sleep."

"She's nice," Frank commented. "I'm glad we finally got to meet her." He shared a look with Jimmy. "I'm glad she was with you, Brenda."

"Yeah." Brenda's voice was soft and her fingers followed the rim of the mug of coffee. She stared into the dark liquid. She didn't want to think about doing any of this without Sharon. She wasn't sure she could. "Me too."

Jimmy walked over to the phone and played the message from the funeral director again. The man's voice was kind and soft and Brenda had expected no less. Funeral directors knew what to say, what to do, to make families feel comfortable and at ease. In the message he introduced himself as Samuel and said that he would be meeting with the family at four o'clock that afternoon. He ended the message with, "There's no need for you to do anything. Let me do it for you."

Brenda glanced at the clock. It was just after two. "Did you pass this message on to Bobby and Clay?" she asked Jimmy.

"They said they'd be here."

"Pancakes?" Frank asked and Brenda's face lit up. She'd only realised she was hungry when she walked into the kitchen and had smelt the food. Her stomach growled and Frank smirked. "Yeah, I didn't exactly expect you to say no to that, Brenda Leigh."

"Say no to what?" Sharon asked from the doorway.

Brenda was surprised to see Sharon still in her pyjama pants. She'd thrown on a hoodie over her t-shirt and her hair was bound back in a messy bun. Her glasses balanced on the tip of her nose and Brenda realised that Sharon had never looked more beautiful than she did right now. She felt her cheeks flush and averted her eyes but all she really wanted was to run her hands through Sharon's hair and…

"Frank's made pancakes," she quickly said, still staring at her coffee.

"Really?" Sharon arched an eyebrow and circled around the counter until she reached the stove. Frank stepped aside to let her have a look and Sharon smiled in appreciation. "Banana pancakes?"

"You got a sweet tooth too, Sharon?" he asked.

"Nowhere near as bad as Brenda's," Sharon answered and looked over her shoulder to find Brenda now looking back at her, smiling.

"Well, if you don't want 'em, I'll eat 'em."

Sharon grinned, bearing a set of pearly white teeth. "You'll have to fight me for them."

The four of them ate at the dining table and Sharon had to admit that Frank's banana pancakes were some of the best she'd ever tasted. She wasn't a big pancake fan, it was more Brenda's thing, but sometimes she liked to indulge. As they ate they talked about what lay ahead and Jimmy informed Sharon about the funeral director visiting.

"I could go and get some shopping if there's a grocery store nearby," Sharon suggested. "It'll give you all a chance to discuss things as a family."

"Don't be silly. You are family!" Brenda objected. She didn't look at her brother and his partner. She didn't have to. Her voice was softer when she spoke again and she covered Sharon's hand with her own. "I want you here, Sharon." Brown eyes found evergreen. "Please."

"Ok," Sharon agreed and began gathering the plates and cutlery. Frank stood up and started helping her, carried his and Jimmy's plates to the sink. Sharon turned to Brenda. "You want to go take a shower? I'll help Frank clean up and see you back upstairs."

Brenda left the kitchen after promising she'd leave Sharon some hot water and Sharon took the remaining plates and placed them in the hot soapy water in the sink. She washed up the dishes, the utensils and the frying pan and watched as Frank dried them up. It felt strangely domesticated and she felt she had found her way around the Johnson family home.

"So how long have you and Brenda known each other?" Frank asked as he put the forks back in the drawer.

"About eight years or so," Sharon answered and was struck by the full realisation of how long Brenda had been a part of her life, even if not all of it had been positive. It felt like she had been around forever. "We used to work together."

"Oh I know all about that," Frank grinned. "I remember the days Brenda just used to say, 'oh that woman!' For a while I wasn't sure you actually had a name. Well, other than the ones Brenda used anyway."

Sharon wiped her hands on a tea towel. She had used some colourful language herself to describe Brenda to other people, mainly her children. When they had finally met Brenda, they'd been shocked to discover she was the subject of their mother's late night frustrated phone calls.

"Things have changed a bit since then."

She looked around the kitchen for a moment. Jimmy was still sat at the dining table, looking through Clay's will. "Brenda… she's family now. I probably see more of her than I do of anyone else, including my children. Hard to imagine that there once was a time where I could happily have used her for target practice at the firing range."

"I see the way you look at her," Frank quietly whispered, silencing her, and Sharon opened her mouth to speak but no sound came out.

It was as if that was Jimmy's cue to speak because he said, "You love her, don't you?"

"I…" Sharon struggled to speak. She felt conflicted, confused. She hadn't dared to admit to herself that it was true, that those feelings were true but now that she was confronted by them, she knew.

"Yes," she confessed.

Jimmy smiled and it felt heart-warming, like her confession had not come as a surprise. Sharon didn't feel judged but she felt respected and accepted. Jimmy had opened up his arms and his heart to her and had let her in. He wasn't going to let her fall flat on her face only for his own amusement. This wasn't High School and they weren't out to get her.

"Then why haven't you told her?"

"Because that chance is gone. I may have had it when she divorced Fritz but I didn't say anything. I didn't because I… because I don't want to lose her, don't want to lose what we have built over all these years. She's the best thing…" She swallowed hard. It hurt. "Well, Brenda's the best thing that's never been mine."

"The chance never left, Sharon. Life's too short to wonder about the what ifs. It is today that matters. If there's one moment that shows you that, this is it. We don't know if we still get a tomorrow, don't know what it'll look like." Jimmy held up the folder that contained Clay's last will and testament. "Nothing makes that more clear than the reason we are all here together right now."

Sharon stayed behind in the kitchen, alone, after Jimmy and Frank left. In the other room she could hear Brenda's laughter and she sadly smiled to herself.

The next few days went by in a blur of making arrangements and long lost family members visiting the house. Sharon busied herself looking after everyone, falling back into the role of being a mother. She prepared coffee and helped out wherever she could, all the while watching Brenda walk in and out of rooms, sometimes smiling and sometimes looking lost. Occasionally Sharon would see Frank and Jimmy look at her and she knew they were watching her watch Brenda. They even smiled knowingly. Sharon could only blush.

When Brenda fled into the kitchen in an attempt to avoid her great-aunt Ethel who was lecturing her on having two divorces below her belt and explaining to her how to be a better wife (Sharon thought this was highly inappropriate at the best of times but even more so since they were preparing for a funeral but it wasn't her place to say anything), she walked up behind Sharon as she was cutting up the pecan pie Frank had made that morning and wrapped her arms around Sharon's waist, resting herself against Sharon's back. Sharon stiffened and almost dropped the knife. Across the kitchen, Jimmy and Frank quietly made their exit.

"Oh Sharon, I feel horrible for sayin' it but I can't wait for all these people to leave!" Brenda whined.

"Your family sure is..." Sharon carefully chose her words. She tried to suppress a smile. "...interesting."

She managed to slowly turn around, her body trapped between the kitchen counter and Brenda. Brenda didn't move her arms, her hands still rested on Sharon's hips. Sharon's heart thundered in her chest when she met deep brown eyes. Something tightened in the pit of her stomach because of the way Brenda looked at her.

"That's one way of puttin' it. If I didn't know any better, I would say that Clay's been talking to Crazy Ethel in there about how much shame I have brought on this family." Brenda smiled a little, reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind Sharon's ear. The touch was soft and kind and her fingers ghosted over Sharon's cheek. She brought her face closer until her lips were inches from Sharon's ear. "Thank you, Sharon. For everythin' you're doin'. I don't know if I could've done all this without you."

"It's my pleasure, Brenda Leigh."

Having Brenda so close to her, holding her, feeling her breath against her skin, sent Sharon's head spinning. Brenda's hands were both back on her hips now and she'd moved in closer, leaning in to Sharon for a hug, and Sharon slipped her arms around Brenda's back, rested her head against the blonde woman's shoulder.

"Whoops. Sorry!"

Both women looked up to find Charlie standing in the kitchen doorway, her eyes trained on her aunt and her friend and Sharon could tell she was trying to fit the pieces together and Sharon wondered for a moment if she'd been talking to Jimmy and Frank.

"Charlie!" Brenda exclaimed and she let go off Sharon but didn't move away. "Jimmy said you were comin' today."

"Wouldn't miss a crazy Johnson family gathering for the world," Charlie mocked. "Nothing beats Great Aunt Ethel telling me I have great childbearing hips."

"Maybe we should threaten her with a nursin' home," Brenda mused. It resulted in a slap on her arm from Sharon. She glared at her. "It would do everyone the world of good!"

Sharon cocked an eyebrow. "Not the nurses in that home."

Brenda seemed to consider that for a moment. "True."

She leaned back in to Sharon and kissed her softly, just next to the corner of her mouth. Brown eyes caught green ones for a fleeting moment and Brenda shyly smiled. "I meant it, Sharon. Thank you for everythin'."

She sauntered out of the kitchen, leaving Sharon and Charlie. The youngest member of the Johnson clan made her way to the fridge and pulled out a can of soda. "You want anything, Sharon?"

"Oh, I'm fine. Thank you, Charlie. But if you could do me a favour and help carry these plates into the living room?"

"Sure." Charlie picked up three plates, each with a slice of pecan pie. Before she walked out she looked at Sharon. "I don't know why Aunt Brenda never told Grandpa about you. I've never seen her this... Well, happy is the wrong word considering why we're here, but she's just different. In a good way."

Sharon's eyes narrowed a little. "What do you mean? I met your grandfather several times, and your grandmother too before she passed away."

"But he didn't know you and a Brenda are together. I mean, it took him a while to figure Jimmy and Frank out. Ten years to be exact. Why didn't Aunt Brenda tell him?"

Sharon blinked. Did Charlie really just say that? Did she really think that she and Brenda were together? She took a deep breath and decided to put the record straight.

"Charlie, honey, I think you have the wrong idea about me and Brenda," Sharon softly said.

"Oh."

"It's ok. There's a lot going on around here and..."

"But I've seen the way she looks at you. She never looked at Fritz that way. She looks at you like my dad looks at my mom and he worships the ground mom walks on."

Sharon opened her mouth to speak but no words came. Charlie was an observant young woman, she'd clearly sensed something was going on, and Sharon thought she'd make a great detective if she ever decided that studying Biology wasn't for her.

"Your Aunt is going through a lot right now," Sharon calmly said. "And she's my best friend. She means a lot to me. I just...I just want to be there for her the best I can."

Charlie didn't answer. She just smiled, turned on her heel and carried the plates into the living room. Sharon was left in the empty kitchen and leaned back against the counter. She covered her face with her hands and her index finger brushed over the spot where Brenda had kissed her moments earlier.

It was late in the afternoon when most of the Johnson family left the house. Crazy Ethel went home with Clay and his wife, something that Sharon found rather fitting. They would all be back for tomorrow's funeral.

Sharon and Brenda were sitting on the front porch of the house on a couple of old wooden chairs overlooking the front yard, the quiet street and the rows of corn fields beyond that. Two glasses of sweat tea stood on the table. Sharon felt that the picture almost couldn't be more Southern; it was almost as if it had been ripped straight from a country song, and it was completed even more by the sun setting behind the horizon, painting the sky shades of amber and red.

"How are you feeling about tomorrow?" Sharon asked. She finally tore her eyes away from the beautiful sunset, the first one she'd actually seen since coming to Atlanta, and looked at Brenda, who was perhaps even more beautiful.

"I don't know," the blonde admitted. "I feel like I should be fallin' apart but I feel at peace. Daddy had a good life and he wasn't the same without Mama so maybe that's why... I know they're together again, like they were meant to be."

Sharon believed that her own father would probably turn the other way and run as fast as he could if he saw his wife in whatever it was that came after death. "Maybe," she smiled. "It is a nice thought, isn't it?"

"It is."

Brenda's eyes narrowed when the sound of a car approaching grew stronger and she stood up from her chair when first one and then a second black SUV pulled up outside the house. Sharon didn't move. She knew what was about to come, had kept the secret for two days now, and just watched as her plan came together.

The doors of both cars opened almost at the same time and Brenda let out a soft squeal of delight when she saw Provenza, Tao and Sanchez climb out of the one car and Sykes, Buzz, Flynn and eventually Rusty out of the other. She then looked over her shoulder at Sharon who was still smiling. Sharon could see tears, happy tears, glistening in Brenda's eyes.

"You did this?"

Sharon nodded. "They're your friends, Brenda. They all want to be here for you."

Brenda met the group halfway down the garden path and Sharon watched the group hug. She'd called Provenza a few hours after Clay had died but the arrangements for everyone to come down to Atlanta had only been made a couple of days ago. Sharon watched as the group parted and Brenda focused on each of them separately. Mike gave her flowers and said something that Sharon assumed was along the lines of 'sorry for your loss, Chief' - she would always be the Chief to them- and Brenda smiled a little. From across the length of the garden, Provenza looked up to meet Sharon's gaze and he gave a quiet thumbs up. She just nodded in return.

"Ya'll have to come in and meet my brother," Brenda said as she ushered everyone up the porch and into the house.

She and Sharon were the last ones to go inside and Brenda held Sharon back by taking her arm, forcing her to slowly turn around. The door to the house fell shut behind Rusty, who had been the last one to go inside and had planted a kiss on his mother's cheek in passing.

Brenda's brown eyes swam with tears when she looked up at Sharon. They stood looking at each other in silence as the last bit of sunlight disappeared from the sky. Darkness began to fall and brought out the sound of the crickets. Sharon softly cupped Brenda's cheek but said nothing. She didn't need to, didn't want to. Her fingers trailed over Brenda's jaw and something stirred inside her when she saw Brenda bite down on her bottom lip. Her heart pounded in her ears and Sharon realised, for the first time, that she really couldn't deny her feelings for Brenda anymore.

She leaned in, close enough that Brenda could see every eyelash, every little freckle on Sharon's cheeks, and then she kissed Brenda softly. It was a fleeting kiss, one that left Sharon's own lips tingling. It was a kiss she knew she could brush off and explain away as just being a friendly display of affection towards someone she cared deeply about. She shivered when Brenda's hand searched for hers, found it and laced their fingers together. Neither of them moved. They stood frozen, looking at each other, their hands linked, when the door opened and Jimmy poked his head around.

"Bren?"

"Comin'," Brenda whispered, never taking her eyes off Sharon.

Jimmy closed the door again and Sharon carefully but reluctantly pulled her hand back but grazed the back of Brenda's hand with her thumb. It was warm and soft. She averted her eyes, felt her cheeks flush red. "We probably should go back inside."

"Yeah," Brenda uttered, lost for words. "We should."

Sharon held the door for her and they stepped into the house. It was alive with loud voices and talking and the two women migrated to the kitchen where they found everyone standing around clutching mugs of coffee and eating leftovers from tonight's dinner. As she entered, Sharon felt that this was different from what she'd experienced in the last few days. This was her family.

"Ya'll didn't need to come out here," Brenda said softly as Jimmy handed her a mug.

"We did, Chief," Julio spoke for the entire group. His voice echoed kindness and admiration. "You would've done the same for us."

They had done the same. When Julio's brother was shot and killed, the whole division had supported him, had been there when he needed them, even when he didn't want them.

"Thank you," Brenda whispered. "Thank you so much."

Provenza smirked. "Never thought I'd say this but I actually missed hearing that."

"Where are ya'll stayin'?" Brenda wanted to know.

"Motel a couple of miles down the road," Mike answered.

Sharon wrinkled her nose. "Who drew the short straw?"

Rusty looked at his mother. "Short straw?"

"I was just politely asking who's sharing with Provenza."

"That would be me, Captain," Flynn answered. "No one else was prepared to." It resulted in him being punched in the back by Provenza.

"You mean no one wanted to share with you, Flynn."

"So, are all the arrangements done?" Mike asked, bringing the conversation back to the reason they were all here. "Is there anything we can do? Something we can do to help?"

"Everything's done. Daddy will be taken from the funeral home to the church for the service and then he will be buried next to Mama," Brenda replied. Sharon was the only one who heard the tremor of nerves in her voice. "And ya'll don't need to do anything to help. Ya'll bein' here is helpin' me as it is."

"We just wanted to be here," Sykes said. She and Brenda had only gotten to know each other after Brenda retired but Amy knew the stories, had heard the others talk, and she admired and respected Brenda. Besides, she was the Captain's friend which meant that Amy automatically liked her. Anyone capable of voluntarily putting up with Sharon Raydor on her bad days deserved a gold medal.

It was dark and getting late by the time the team and Rusty, who had been pulled aside by Sharon just before leaving so she could give him a hug, left the Johnson house. Brenda, Sharon, Frank and Jimmy waved them off from the front porch. Sharon's hand rested on the small of Brenda's back and once the SUV's were out of sight, she softly ushered the blonde back into the house.

Jimmy and Frank announced they were going to bed and Sharon suggested that they would do the same. She was halfway up the stairs when she noticed Brenda wasn't behind her. She found the younger woman standing in the living room and when Sharon approached, she could tell Brenda was crying. The blonde's shoulders were shaking.

"Brenda? You ok?" she asked softly.

"I just... The thought of clearin' this place out after tomorrow, knowin' that the life my family lived here is over..." Brenda sobbed. She wiped the tears away. "There are so many memories here and now there ain't gonna be anymore."

Sharon had been waiting for the realisation to hit. She knew sooner or later it would. The realisation that a part of her life was over, would be gone. After tomorrow the Johnson siblings would go through their parents things, things that belonged to both Clay and Willie Rae as he hadn't even as much as cleared out of her half of the wardrobe, and they would have to decide what to do with those memories and remnants. Some they would keep and bring home with them but others they would have to let go. But how does one let go off part of their life?

It had been easy when her own mother died because frankly, Sharon hadn't been attached to anything that belonged to her. They'd just packed stuff up, thrown it away or given it to the Salvation Army and within two days, the only memory of her mother ever living in their childhood home was the fact that her children were standing in it.

"I'll help you," Sharon promised. She carefully took Brenda's hand. "I'll help you in whatever way I can."

They made their way up the stairs and got ready for bed in silence. Sharon got changed in the bathroom, Brenda in the bedroom, but she knocked the bathroom door and asked if she could come in. They stood side by side to brush their teeth and Brenda's hip touched Sharon's. Sharon looked at their reflection in the mirror and was struck by the familiarity and intimacy of the image. They moved effortlessly, as if they had done this hundreds of times before, with Sharon taking a step back when Brenda reached for the tap and rinsed out her mouth and Brenda handing Sharon the soft white towel when Sharon had done the same. Their hands touched when Sharon gave the towel back and they looked at each other. Brenda had braided her hair and it changed something about her, Sharon thought. It made her look younger, more fragile perhaps.

Without speaking they made their way back to the bedroom, Sharon walking behind Brenda. Sharon got into bed first, plumped up her pillow and propped herself up. She then watched Brenda circle the bed to her side and slip under the covers. Their toes touched and Sharon held her breath. Something had changed. She knew it had, could feel it. Brenda's body felt different now. Nothing was the same.

Brenda switched off the bedside light and curled herself up on her side to face Sharon in the darkness. Sharon could hear Brenda breathing, could feel the thumping of her own heart. She stiffened when she felt Brenda's fingers ghost over her arm, from her hand up to her elbow and then her shoulder. Her breath hitched when Brenda fingered a lock of hair.

"Sharon?"

"Yes?"

"You make me happy."

Sharon didn't answer.

"Don't I make you happy too?" Brenda mistook Sharon's silence for rejection. Sharon heard the hurt in her voice.

"You do, Brenda Leigh," Sharon whispered, her throat dry and her voice hoarse. Tears stung behind her eyes and she covered Brenda's hand with her own. She turned so she faced t Brenda, even if she couldn't see her in the dark. "You make me very happy."

Brenda's lips were unexpectedly soft and warm and caught Sharon by surprise. At first she froze but then, when she felt Brenda's hands trail up her arms towards her face, she relaxed into Brenda's body and the kiss. Her fingers began trailing up Brenda's arms, cherishing the soft and warm skin, and she carefully pressed the tip of her tongue against Brenda's lips, waiting for the younger woman to let her in. When she encountered Brenda's tongue, Sharon just let herself fall into every single emotion she felt.

Brenda's lithe body fitted perfectly against her and Sharon's hands slid down Brenda's back until she reached the hem of her shirt. Warm fingers crept up beneath the fabric and touched the glowing skin. Her body moved and Brenda moved with her, rolling on top of her when Sharon rolled onto her back. Brenda positioned herself between Sharon's legs and kept their lips together in a kiss that only grew in intensity.

Brenda moaned softly, a sound that made Sharon feel like she was going insane, when Sharon's hands climbed up underneath her shirt towards her shoulders. Skin against skin. They were so close and Brenda felt so good. Sharon shivered when she felt Brenda's fingers ghost over her stomach. Somehow her shirt had moved up and her back arched slightly when Brenda's hands journeyed higher and encountered the swell of her breasts.

"Brenda…." Sharon sighed when Brenda slowly kissed her way down the side of Sharon's neck. "Brenda…"

"Hmmm?" the blonde purred softly.

Sharon slipped a hand under Brenda's chin and lifted her face up. "Maybe we should wait," she quietly said. She could feel Brenda's piercing stare. "Not because I don't want to because I do, I really do, but maybe we should wait until after tomorrow? You're tired and emotional and I don't want you to feel like you have to do this."

"But I want to," Brenda pouted.

"I know," Sharon whispered and she pulled Brenda down to lie down beside her. Instantly Brenda curled up against her, arm draped over her stomach, legs entwined. "But all of this…" She didn't have to finish what she was saying. She knew that, despite her objections, Brenda understood.

They lay together, wrapped up in each other's arms. Brenda's breathing evened out quickly as she slipped off into the land of dreams and Sharon lay in the darkness with her hands folded beneath her head and waited for sleep to claim her mind.

~()~

Sharon woke to the feeling of Brenda's fingers trailing over her stomach. When she opened her eyes she found the room still dark. It wasn't morning yet. She lay still and quietly for a moment, enjoying the feeling of Brenda's body wrapped around her own, Brenda's hand against her skin. They had fallen asleep like this, hours earlier. It felt so perfect, so completely right and she was afraid that by moving or even whispering she would break the spell and it would all vanish into nothing.

"I know you're awake, Sharon."

Sharon could hear the smile in Brenda's voice and she turned her head. She just about managed to make out the outline of Brenda's face in the darkness but couldn't see the other woman's eyes.

"How did you know?"

"Your breathing changed."

Sharon swallowed. Nothing ever slipped past Brenda. "You ok? What time is it?"

The question reminded both of them of what today was, what it would bring.

"Around four thirty, I think. And yeah, I'm ok."

Sharon rolled on to her side so she could face Brenda and reached up. Her fingers encountered soft curls and she let one run through her fingers. "Today's going to be strange," she said softly. Experience had taught her that. Although she had never been close to her mother, the final goodbye had still been difficult and unexpected. "You sure you're ok?"

"I will be," Brenda admitted. Sharon sensed there was something else, something Brenda wasn't telling her. She could hear it in her voice.

"Brenda, you know you can tell me anything, right?" She felt the younger woman stir beside her. Brenda's fingers stopped moving. "Then please, why don't you tell me what's on your mind?"

"Us," Brenda whispered. "I've been thinkin' about us." She paused and Sharon wondered just how long Brenda had been awake. "About what happens when we go back to Los Angeles. Leaving here... I won't have anything to come back to Atlanta for. I'm not that close to Clay or Bobby, Charlie's studying and Jimmy lives in New York. But..."

"It's home," Sharon finished Brenda's sentence. "Atlanta is home. It's where you're from, where you were raised, at least for some part. I understand, Brenda. It's hard to see something end that for so long was such a big part of you." She continued to stroke Brenda's hair. "I felt the same when I left Philadelphia and that was without the emotional attachment you're feeling."

Quietly, Brenda whispered, "What if I don't want it to end? What if I want to start something new?" She propped herself up on her elbow. Sharon wished Brenda would turn on the light so she could see her but she knew Brenda talked easier in the dark. Sometimes it was just easier not to have to look into someone's eyes. "I've been thinkin' about what Bobby said. About sellin' the house now that Daddy's gone. I... I don't think I can do it. I can't sell it. I can't sell part of my life."

"What do you mean?" Sharon asked.

"A fresh start." Brenda's voice was small. Sharon knew she was afraid of rejection. "A new start for both of us. Close the book. Open a new one."

"Brenda..."

"I want to stay here, Sharon. I wanna stay in Atlanta. I wanna stay in this house. With you."

Sharon's eyes fluttered shut for a few moments as she let the words sink in. Was Brenda really prepared to leave Los Angeles to move back to Atlanta? There wasn't much that tied Brenda to LA anymore. She wasn't exactly happy in her job and the city carried memories of her marriage and divorce as well as her time at LAPD. She'd never quite gotten the fresh start she always wanted and needed. At first Sharon had thought Brenda was ok with that but she'd begun to wonder, sometimes, when Brenda looked solemnly out of the window, if she'd ever truly managed to close the book.

Sharon considered Los Angeles home even if it wasn't where she was born. She'd grown up in Philadelphia and, despite her mother, it had not been a bad childhood. She had moved to the city with Jack after they married so he could start law school. She'd given birth to her two children there, had adopted her third, and had made her career but she had also watched her marriage fall apart there. Living in LA had given her Brenda, something she would forever be grateful for, but it had given her plenty of heartache and, more recently, plenty of nightmares too.

What did LA have left now other than more dead bodies? More dead children lying in shallow graves, their eyes robbed of their shine? Her kids were grown and had left home, two had even left the state, and although she found comfort in her work because she provided answers to those who needed them, helped families find closure and put murderers behind bars, she still came home to silence on the nights Brenda wasn't there. Some nights she could barely face herself in the mirror.

"Sharon? Sharon, say something. Please." Brenda's voice was laced with tears and Sharon, realising she'd frightened the younger woman, quickly apologised.

"I'm sorry. I... I guess I just... It's a bit unexpected is all. But I understand." She reached behind her to turn the light on. She wanted to see Brenda, needed to see her. Two seconds later the golden glow fell over Brenda's face and Sharon saw the tears and she saw the fear. She reached for Brenda's hands under the duvet and brought them up to her lips. She kissed her fingers and looked at her intently.

"I promise you we will talk about this after today. I am not dismissing anything because there isn't anywhere else I'd want to be right now but with you. But for now you need to focus on the day ahead. You want to be the best you can be for your father. And I know you will, Brenda Leigh. I know you will."

"Thank you," Brenda whispered. She leaned in and seemed to hesitate so Sharon closed the distance between them and kissed Brenda instead. The blonde instantly relaxed.

They got up half an hour later, after having indulged in more passionate kissing which had left Sharon's mind reeling and her body pulsating in ways and places she had almost forgotten it could. They both showered and Sharon silently thanked Rusty for having gone to her apartment and bring her the black suit she kept for occasions like this. It consisted of a black knee length skirt, a black blazer and a light grey shirt. It wasn't that different from some of the clothes she wore at work but this particular outfit she kept in the back of her wardrobe for funerals. It was finished off by a pair of simple yet elegant black pumps.

She tied her hair up into a loose bun in the back of her neck, a few strands falling down the sides of her face, and opted for a minimal amount of make-up. She considered not putting on her glasses but then decided against it. She'd just hung the pearl necklace around her neck when Brenda emerged from the bathroom,

She was dressed in an elegant black dress that clung to her slender frame at the top and flowed out near the bottom. If reached down to her calves, making it an appropriate length for a funeral without it looking too prudish. She clutched a black jacket in her hand and had pinned her curls up in a way Sharon had never seen before. Brenda's face was bare of make-up and she looked at Sharon from the doorway, sadness filling her eyes.

This was final. This was the end,

They silently made their way down the stairs to find they weren't the only ones already up. Jimmy and Frank were in the kitchen, both wearing suits. Jimmy's tie was loose and Frank hadn't put his on yet. It was draped over the back of his chair. They sat at the dining table, two empty coffee cups between them. Neither spoke.

Brenda slipped into the chair next to her brother and Sharon sat down beside Frank. The silence in the house felt like a reminder that the voices that had once filled these rooms were gone, were slowly fading. The lack of footsteps or the sound of the TV blaring... It was the silence that made their loss the most real, made it hurt the most.

As the hours began to tick by on the clock, more people gathered. Bobby and Joyce with Charlie. Clay and Amy with crazy Aunt Ethel. Two of Clay Senior's cousins. More family members Sharon had never even heard of, and from the way Brenda looked she suspected she hadn't either, at least not for some time. All the members of Clay's bowling team arrived, wearing their team shirts. The last to walk into the house were the members of Sharon's squad and Rusty and Sharon pulled her son aside.

She was readjusting his tie when she said, "You ok? We haven't had much chance to talk."

"I'm fine," Rusty reassured his mother. "Besides, this isn't about me. This is about Brenda."

Sharon smiled. She was proud of all her children but Rusty was special. She ruffled his hair and then said, "About that..."

"About Brenda?" He gave her a look. Sharon wasn't sure what it meant.

"Not exactly." There would be a time and a place for that and this wasn't it. She for a moment considered leaving it till another time but the thought just kept churning round in her head. She wasn't sure it could wait. "How would you feel if I moved out of California?"

"You're thinking of retiring? Seriously? Like, for real?" Rusty rubbed his chin and stared at her. He didn't seem shocked or surprised. He almost appeared to be... Understanding. "Well, I guess it'll mean I can't see you every month but if that's what you want then I am happy for you."

"I haven't decided and I would appreciate it if you didn't mention it to anyone but I thought you deserved to know." Sharon chewed her bottom lip, a trait she'd somehow copied from Brenda. "But, yes, it has come up. There are days where I wonder how much more darkness I can face."

"I get it, Mom," 'Rusty said. He unexpectedly leaned in and hugged her. Sharon sighed into his embrace and closes her eyes. He had grown up so much. He wasn't that wide eyed, scared teenager anymore. With Philip Stroh back safely behind bars - in isolation- Rusty had continued to grow and develop and now when she looked at him, Sharon saw a young man ready to leave his mark on the world.

Rusty's gaze drifted off to Brenda. She was watching them. Something about the way she looked at Sharon made the pieces fall into place for him and he whispered, "I understand. I know what you're doing. You're choosing yourself for once and it's about time."

Sharon wasn't sure exactly who or what she was choosing but Rusty's approval meant more than she could ever express. When he let go off her she kissed his forehead and he went off to join Flynn and Sanchez. Sharon joined Jimmy and Frank by the fireplace but felt Brenda's eyes burn into her back.

It was only when the clock struck eleven and the time came for them to leave for church that Sharon realised neither she nor Brenda had had breakfast or even coffee. Her stomach rumbled and she felt sick but it would have to wait now till they came back.

She took Brenda's hand and their fingers entwined. Neither of them spoke as they walked out of the front door towards the car but Sharon looked up at Brenda, green eyes bright behind dark rimmed glasses. Brenda looked small and nervous, like a bird that had fallen from its nest before it was ready to fly. Sharon squeezed Brenda's hand and brown eyes found green. Sharon could see the fear.

Softly, she promised, "I'm going to be right here, Brenda."

The sky was grey. It seemed both fitting and cruel for a funeral. Usually the skies over Atlanta were blue but it seemed Mother Nature was sharing in their grief and thick grey clouds full of rain had packed together over their heads.

The drive from the Johnson home to the church took about twenty five minutes. Frank drove and Jimmy sat next to him. Sharon and Brenda sat in the back, their hands still linked. The car Jimmy had rented was a Prius, leaving them with plenty of room in the back. Brenda hadn't spoken a word since leaving the house and Sharon looked out of the window as Atlanta flashed by outside, Brenda's question still rolling around in her head.

Clay and Willie Rae's house was about six or seven miles outside of Atlanta, bordering the Georgia country side. Far enough away from downtown Atlanta to create the feeling of living in the middle of nowhere but close enough never to too be too far from anywhere. As they drove, Sharon saw fields of corn, farms, pick-up trucks, forests and trees. They were views she wasn't used to. Los Angeles looked nothing like this. She wasn't used to the cleaner air away from the city, void of exhaust fumes. It was a different way of life. People were still people instead of unknown objects passing each other without a second glance.

She'd always lived in a city, first Philly and now LA, and she considered herself a city girl. She'd never known anything else and for a long time she'd enjoyed the liveliness of it all. There was always noise and light. Nights were never really dark because a city never really sleeps. But here... here life was quiet. The world seemed different here. When darkness fell, all she saw from the bedroom window were stars and fireflies.

Frank pulled up outside a small Baptist church and circled round the car to open the door for Brenda. She hesitated before getting out and turned to look at Sharon. She smiled encouragingly, and took Brenda's had again as soon as she got out of the car. She then turned to look at the church. The building was white with a simple wooden cross hanging over the door. Sharon couldn't remember the last time she'd set foot in a church.

Brenda's heart ached with every step she took. She felt nauseous and scared and just wanted to turn around and run away. She had been here before, at this very church, on a day not unlike today though the skies had been blue and the sun had been shining, and she'd tried hard to shelve that memory in a part of her mind where it didn't haunt her too much, but now it was back. Every step up to the church's double entrance doors brought back the hurt, the pain and the grief. It ripped open a wound she thought had healed.

"I can't do this..." She froze just outside the door. Inside, in the coffin made out of oak wood and adorned with flowers carefully picked out by his children, lay her father and she wasn't prepared for that, wasn't prepared for that moment where she couldn't deny that it was over, that another part of her life was gone.

"I can't do this. I can't do this. I... Can't..."

Sharon squeezed Brenda's hand and placed her other on the small of her back. "Yes, you can, Brenda," she spoke softly. "You can do this. I know you can. Take a deep breath." Brenda did as Sharon said. Sharon's hand drifted from Brenda's back to her stomach and she felt her take in a deep breath. "Good girl. Now listen to my voice and only my voice. You can do this."

Provenza silently appeared alongside them and cast Sharon a quick look before extending his arm for Brenda to take. There was no hesitation. She linked her arm through his while her other hand found Sharon's and together the three of them stepped into the church.

There, in front of the altar, stood Clay's coffin. Closed, just as his children had requested. Clay had not been the type of man who enjoyed being gawked at when he was alive; they weren't going to change that now that he was dead. The coffin was adorned with and surrounded by white flowers. Clay didn't like flowers but they had been Willie Rae's favourite so it seemed fitting.

Sharon and Provenza led Brenda to the front row pew and Brenda slipped in next to Bobby. Sharon took a step back so she could go sit in the second row, but Brenda looked up and shook her head before signalling for Sharon to come sit next to her. Sharon silently sat down beside Brenda, aware that from the other row of pews, Clay Jr shot Brenda a questioning look. Brenda ignored him.

The church filled up quickly and when Brenda allowed herself a look around, she found people were standing towards the back. It made her smile. Her Daddy would have appreciated the turn out. He liked family get-togethers, although perhaps a little less when they happened around funerals, and to know that all his family and friends were here would have made him proud. It made Brenda proud too.

The service was beautiful and fitting. The readings consisted of two poems, a piece written by Bobby and a verse from the Bible which was read by Charlie. They all described and complimented Clay's personality perfectly and Brenda even found herself smiling at the personal reflections from Bobby. The story he told was full of childhood memories and he shared the love story of how Clay and Willie Rae had met all those years ago, ending it by saying that he wished to have what they had; a life full of happiness. Brenda only realised she was crying when she felt Sharon brush the tears from her cheeks.

It was when the first notes of Amazing Grace, her father's favourite, filled the church Brenda shattered. Something inside of her broke in a way she knew could never quite be fixed. The tears continued to run down her cheeks and she tried to sing the words, she knew them by heart, but she couldn't. When she turned to Sharon she found the brunette was singing and even with all the other voices around them, Brenda still only heard her.

The burial was at the church cemetery where her mother was buried too and Brenda, when confronted with the sight of the family grave being open, only felt more strongly about wanting to stay here. Something about ashes to ashes and dust to dust and walking through a valley of shadows... In the end they all went home, back to where they came from, one way or another and it didn't matter what you believed in, and this was where she was from, where she belonged. The headstone was already engraved with her father's date of birth and the date he had died and it only added to her desire to want to stay.

She stood over the grave and watched as the coffin was lowered into the ground. A final goodbye but at the same time she was watching her parents coming back together, the way they had always been. Here, they would always stay together, and she didn't want to be that far away from them again. She was the first to step forward and gently scoop up a hand full of earth. She dropped it on her father's coffin and it landed with a soft thud. She didn't turn away when her brothers approached. She waited and the four of them stepped back as a united front.

Brenda's hand found Sharon's and when she looked up, tears still on her cheeks, she found Sharon looking back at her. She only half heard the words spoken over her father's grave because Sharon leaned in, brought her lips to Brenda's ear and whispered, "Let's do it."

The tears just poured out, like a dam had been broken inside her. She started shaking and her body felt weak. The world faded into a blur. Before she could fall, Sharon's arms were around her, holding her up. She felt people watching her, heard the increase in whispers, felt Jimmy's hand on her back and heard Sharon mumble something to him.

She didn't remember the end of the funeral, didn't remember how she made it back to Jimmy's car. She only realised her surroundings had changed and she was moving when she heard the rain rattling down on the roof of the car. It sounded like the night at the hospital, the night her father had died. She looked down and found Sharon's hand resting on top of hers.

"Hey," Sharon whispered, her fingers twitching slightly. "You ok?" She smiled. "You seemed pretty far gone for a while."

Brenda nodded. It was over. It was gone. Part of her life. Her Mama and her Daddy. They were gone. She looked up into Sharon's emerald eyes. But something else had been found.

"Did you mean it?"

Sharon asked, "Mean what?"

"What you said earlier? About stayin' here with me? Did you mean it?"

"Yes, Brenda Leigh, I did."

Brenda cocked her head. Her mind became clearer. She could focus again. She shot a quick glance at Jimmy and Frank in the front. The radio was playing softly. The two men weren't listening to them and were talking amongst themselves. She looked back at Sharon.

"Why?"

"I've been thinking about it for a while now. That maybe it's time. There's only so much darkness a person can face. There comes a time when there's no room left for anything else." Sharon looked down at her hand holding Brenda's. They fitted so perfectly and beautifully together.

The decision to leave had been easy. Easier than she'd ever have thought. When Brenda asked, her heart had already accepted. Her brain had just needed time to catch up. She'd answered the question days ago, back in her own bedroom in Los Angeles after she had stared down into the graves of two innocent children.

Sharon leaned back into her seat. Brenda's brown eyes narrowed.

"What about your job?" She didn't care about her own, the DA's office could find ten other people by the end of the week who were qualified to do what she did, but Sharon's job was important. It mattered. Brenda knew that better than anyone.

Sharon couldn't suppress a snort. "I know the reorganisation is coming. I heard Taylor talk about it last week." She looked at Brenda from the corner of her eye. "We both know what happened the last time they had a reshuffle, Brenda."

"You think he's going to take Major Crimes away from you?"

"I think he's going to shake up the whole division. I know Provenza is going to put in for his retirement when we come back. He hasn't said it but I know. I've never seen him look so tired and old. That last case… it got to him. I don't blame him. It got to all of us." She sighed. "I don't know what Andy will do. Ask for a transfer maybe. Back to Robbery Homicide, I imagine. Amy still stay, of course. She's got years ahead of her still. Julio, too. And Mike... I don't know. SID have been asking for his help a lot recently." She paused and watched raindrops slip down the glass. "Maybe it's just time."

"To retire?"

"To live."

~()~

**3 years later**

She watched Brenda walk out onto the porch carrying a tray with two glasses and a jug of ice tea. She wore that light blue dress she'd bought three weeks ago and her curls fell down her shoulders. She was bare foot, the way she liked to be. The last rays of sunshine reflected off her hair, leaving it with a golden glow. The skies were coloured red and orange and the air was fresh. It was still warm and humid and Sharon leaned back in her chair and tucked up her legs underneath herself. She'd grown to love these evenings. Had grown to love what they had become and what they meant.

A lot had changed in three years. Moving in to Brenda's old family home had felt odd at first and after a few weeks they had started the decorating. Every room was painted and the kitchen refitted. Lots of old memories remained, including the old family portrait on the landing, but new touches had been added too. It felt like a perfect mixture of past and present, old and new.

This was home.

She and Brenda had been together since that first kiss three years ago. They had grown together, had learned to understand, to appreciate, and to listen to each other. They complimented each other and challenged each other at the same time. Brenda, Sharon had come to realise, was the reason it had never worked out with anybody else. Because all those others were not like her. No one knew her the way Brenda did, accepted and respected her the way Brenda did. No one loved her the way Brenda did.

Loss and grief had brought them here, to this house and to this moment. They had found each other here and they had both come home.

Brenda's family had been accepting for the most part. Clay Jr had needed a little more time to come round but he finally accepted their Thanksgiving invitation last year. Jimmy and Frank visited every few months and Charlie had her own bedroom, as did Rusty. He visited as often as he could and, true to Brenda's predictions, he and Charlie got on brilliantly from the first moment they met at Clay's funeral.

Sharon watched as Brenda put down the tray on the small wooden table that separated their chairs. She poured each of them a glass and handed one to Sharon, a smile spreading across her lips when their gazes locked. Right now, with the sun behind her and that smile on her face, Brenda was the most beautiful thing Sharon had ever seen.

"Have I told you today that I love you?" Sharon whispered.

"Yes," Brenda smiled. "You tell me every day."

"Then let me tell you again." Sharon took Brenda's hand into her own. She would never grow old of saying it. "I love you."

Brenda smiled. Sharon had been right three years ago. It was time to live.

"I love you too."


End file.
